Blood Trails
by HornetFreak
Summary: Years after the war with Salem has ended, Remnant is safe and happy. However, when an attempt is made on Weiss Schnee's life, Jasper Arc and Yang Xiao Long are drawn into a race against time to find and catch the new threat. Their hunt takes them from the frozen skies of Atlas to the dry and merciless desert of Menagerie. Can they prevent Team RWBY from being wiped out? (Abandoned)
1. Doin' Just Fine

**A/N: Hornet here.**

** This is an idea I've had for a while. Figured it would make a decent story. I don't plan to let this replace Deep Purple, however, I am suffering from severe writer's block for that fic.**

* * *

Despite it being located in the center of the City of Vale, the Vale Police Department lockup was surprisingly devoid of occupants. The barrenness of the holding cell was strange, considering the amount of street crime that took place in that particular part of the city. Most of the time, the precinct was as busy and loud as a subway station. Tonight, however, the only guests of the police were two young men brought in on charges of assault.

They were seated on opposite ends of the large, concrete room. Glowing metal bands held their hands together with the use of magnetized Dust crystals. The so-called "Dust-Cuffs" were a recent innovation in detainment technology, courtesy of the Schnee Dust Company, and had aided law-enforcement in safely apprehending criminals all over Remnant. Currently, one of the detainees was vigorously struggling with his cuffs in a futile attempt to remove them.

He glanced at his cell-mate cautiously before frantically calling out to the nearest guard. "Hey! Hey officer, you gotta get me outta here, man. This guy's crazy!"

"Shut up in there!" the guard replied, lazily sipping his coffee before returning his attention to the semi-finals of the Vytal Festival on his scroll. "Damn, Beacon's getting their butts handed to 'em this year," he muttered.

The greasy man did not heed the cop's instructions and continued his rant, undeterred. "I'm serious man, he's gonna kill me if you don't let me out. I didn't even do anything to get in here in the first place. He just attacked me out of nowhere."

The officer stood up and walked over to the bars of the cell. "I'll tell you what. Either you shut the hell up, or I cut the maniac loose. Then we'll see just how crazy he really is." He held up his keys in a threatening manner. The man shook his head violently and sat back down quietly.

The "maniac" in question laughed and began to growl sarcastically, mocking the frantic man. In reality, he had no intentions of killing the thug. That's not to say he didn't look like he would. He was garbed in ripped black jeans, black combat boots, and a grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing pale, muscular forearms. Over his shirt, he wore a black and red leather vest with a blood red decal of a rose, surrounded by two arches on the back. His hair matched his overall aesthetic and color-pallet. It was black with red highlights, pulled back into a messy ponytail.

His most intimidating feature, however, were his eyes (well, eye). The right one was piercing and silver, while the left was covered by a worn, black leather eye-patch. All in all, the young man had the appearance of a grizzled and battle-hardened huntsman.

Suddenly, a door opened and slammed closed again down the hallway. Two sets of footsteps along with a lot of chatter began making their way closer.

One of the voices, a man, was doing most of the talking. "Miss Xiao Long, this is the fourth time this month that we've had to detain him," he said. "I'm sorry, but if your nephew gets himself into trouble one more time, not even your influence will be enough to get him out here."

"I understand, Commissioner," replied a female voice. "And you don't need to worry anymore. Jasper's weekly stays in the _Hotel de V.P.D._ end tonight."

As the pair entered the room, the Commissioner finished the conversation. "All due respect, ma'am, I'll believe it when I see it."

Commissioner Church was a short, stocky faunus, with a pair of brown pointy dog ears poking out of his light brown hair. He was dressed in the standard Vale P.D. uniform: a light blue dress shirt, black slacks, and dress shoes.

The woman to which he was speaking was Yang Xiao Long: Huntress, hero, and all around badass. She was also the only member of Team RWBY that was still on active duty. If there was ever anyone that didn't look her age, it was Yang. At the age of forty-four, she managed to maintain a somewhat youthful complexion, not a single hair in her golden mane had any hint of grey, and she was still fit enough to wrestle an Ursa to the ground barehanded.

As for her attire, she wore a brown leather jacket that appeared to be a size too small, as it hugged her torso and shoulders quite snuggly. The right sleeve was rolled up to the elbow, providing an adequate view of her yellow and black prosthetic arm. Underneath the coat, the low neckline of a bright yellow t-shirt could just barely be seen. Her tight pants were of the same material and color of her jacket and had an intricate design of a dragon running down the left leg. Yang's feet and shins were clad in high top boots that were meant for fashion as much as function. With them on, she could curb-stomp a Beowolf and strut a runway on the same night.

Any man or woman that didn't know who she was would've been awestruck by her. At this moment, however, she instilled nothing but fear. Her lilac eyes scanned the room, searching for any kind of threat, a habit she had acquired after years of fighting in the war against Salem. Finally, her gaze locked on the one-eyed perp in the cell. He smiled nervously and waved, and she rolled her eyes, annoyed.

Clearing his throat, the Commissioner spoke to the guard, who was still engrossed in his scroll. "Andersmith, let him out."

"Hmm? Oh, Commissioner Church, sir," Andersmith scrambled to his feet, stuffing the device in his pocket. "Umm...Which one?"

Church sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The regular," he groaned.

"Right," Andersmith walked to the cell door. "Arc!" he barked. "Get over here. Nice and slow."

The silver-eyed man rose and smoothly made his way to the guard, as his restraints were removed, he glanced at the other occupant. With a smirk, he stuck his tongue out. Which, in turn, prompted a scowl. Jasper laughed and turned to Andersmith as the door opened. "Is it time for my hour in the yard, Boss?"

"Don't be a smartass," he said as the door clanged shut.

"Rather be a smartass than a dumbass, chief," Jasper returned cheerily.

"Who says you're not both?" Yang piped in. "You're in here every weekend."

He opened his mouth to fire off another rebuttal but realized that he had nothing to counter her comment.

"Touché," he replied as the officer removed his cuffs.

Church interrupted the sarcastic conversation. "Andersmith, take Miss Xiao Long and Mr. Arc here to get his things. Then see them out," he ordered.

Andersmith nodded. "Yes sir, but someone has to stay here to watch the cell."

"I'll take over for a while. I need a break from paperwork anyway." The Commissioner took Andersmith's seat after retrieving for himself a cup of coffee from the machine in the hallway. "Take care, Yang. And remember what I said. No more second chances."

Yang waved as she stepped through the door. "Got it, Church. It's been fun as always."

All the way down the corridor, Jasper could feel Yang's eyes burning holes through the back of his skull. It was never wise of him to earn his aunt's ire, but, for some reason, he was drawn to the danger all the same. Perhaps it was a trait he inherited from his mother, who was always finding some way to pester her sister. Whatever the case was, he was going to regret his evening's activities on the ride home.

Andersmith led them into a cramped office that was barely big enough to accommodate all three of them. The tiny room had a desk and a door to another room, but not much else. He motioned for them to sit and slid a sheet of paper across the table.

"You know the drill, Jasper," he said dryly. "Sign at the bottom of the page while I get your stuff." He disappeared through the door. Emerging a few moments later with a backpack in one hand and a roll of red cloth in the other. Setting the items on the table, he let out a puff of air. "Welp, it's all there," Andersmith stated. "You get everything signed?"

Jasper nodded.

"Right," the officer returned his gesture. "You're free to go. As much as I know it won't do any good, try to stay out of trouble, kid. If not for yourself, then do it for her." He motioned toward Yang.

The blonde war hero crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. "I honestly could care less about all of this. Me and Church talked it over, next time he gets locked up, he can rot in that cell as far as I'm concerned."

"So I've heard," Jasper said without looking up from his bag. Though Andersmith had told him nothing had been removed, he wanted to make sure. As he dug through the pack, he found his newly-bought chocolate-chip cookies (still unopened, thank God.), a carton of milk, now spoiled, and a pint of strawberry ice cream which had unfortunately melted.

Before he had been arrested, Jasper was merely out shopping for some late-night comfort foods. As he was exiting the supermarket, something had caught his eye in the parking lot. The other man from the holding cell was struggling with an older woman, trying to steal her purse. Seeing that no one else was helping and having nothing better to do, he decided to intervene. He did so by simply walking up and punching the mugger as hard as he could in the mouth. Now, having been trained by Yang Xiao Long, Jasper had a killer left hook, but the other man apparently didn't get the memo and refused to be beaten. On the upside, he lost all interest in the old lady's handbag and turned his attention to Jasper. On the downside, their brawl drew the eyes a passing police cruiser. Needless to say, neither of them looked all that innocent to the officers.

It had recently become something of a habit for Jasper to pull such stunts. Not a week went by that he didn't get locked up for dispensing his own brand of vigilante justice.

"I'm serious, kid," Yang continued. "The next time you get in here, you're getting yourself out. I'm done protecting you."

"Look, this is really none of my business," Andersmith interrupted. "And I can't help but feel like you two might want to have this talk in private. So, I'm just gonna go." Yang thanked the officer as he locked up the door to the Suspect Belongings Room and exited through the way they came in. "I'm sure you can show yourselves out. Take care."

When she could no longer hear his footsteps, Yang turned to Jasper and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Kid, how long until you straighten up and get your life right?"

The silver-eyed cyclops's smug attitude faded almost instantly. "What do you mean? My life's just fine."

"Really? You're working security at a nightclub, illegally might I add, living in a rathole of an apartment, and you get your kicks by going around and beating the crap out of street thugs. That's what you consider to be 'just fine?'"

He looked up from his bag and met her gaze. "So I'm in a bit of a rough patch. What can I do?"

"I don't know, Jasper," she shook her head. "But I'm worried about you. Between getting kicked out of Beacon and all of your nights spent in this place, how could I not be?" She paused, considering her next words carefully. "Do you honestly think that this is the kind of life your parents would've wanted for you? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this?"

Jasper winced. His parents were a sensitive subject. Their deaths six years ago had hit everyone they knew pretty hard.

"I know you don't like to talk about them. Hell, neither do I," Yang said. "But Jaune and Ruby wanted you to be happy. And I know for a fact that you're not happy. If you were, you wouldn't be using Vale's underbelly as punching bags."

"What's your point? Other than to depress me?"

She stood up, running a hand through her hair. "My point is that you need to find something that makes you happy, whether it's here in Vale or out in the great wide world. Because I'm not gonna be here to help you for a while."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're leaving?"

"Yep. Takin' a trip to Atlas, visit Weiss for a bit." She mimicked his brow movement, but in a smug way. "I was considering inviting you to come with, but since you're content to stay here where things are 'just fine,' I thought better of it."

"Yeah, a week at the Ice Queen's mansion, attending fancy parties and galas doesn't really sound like my kind of vacation. I'll pass," Jasper joked. He acted indifferent about the chance to see his mother's best friend. But in reality, it was really just her lifestyle that deterred him. The kind of image that the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company promoted had never been his cup of tea.

"Oh, this isn't a vacation, kid," she explained. "Somebody attacked Weiss, and she thinks they're gonna try again. I'm going up there to help her out."

Jasper was shocked. "Who'd be dumb enough to attack Weiss Schnee? She's like...the most untouchable person in the world."

Yang nodded in agreement. It was true, Weiss had more security than General Ironwood in his day. And was even more paranoid. "Apparently someone with a lot of balls and a lot of skill to back it up."

"Well then, why were you gonna ask me to go with you? I'm no huntsman. I'm not even a student anymore."

The blonde took a deep breath, and her expression became cold and serious. "Because I thought you'd be interested in the fact that the assassins sounded very similar to the ones that murdered Ruby and Jaune."

Jasper's head snapped toward her with inhuman speed. "What? You're sure?"

She nodded somberly. "Yeah. Their methods were almost identical," she said. "They attacked when her guard was down. Set fire to a press conference while she was giving a speech and blew past all of her security in the chaos."

He shuddered as memories of that fateful night flooded back to him. The family home set ablaze, gunfire thundering throughout the woods, and the sheer dread he felt as he watched his parents' lives end. Back then, he was only thirteen years old; too young to actually help in a real fight, no matter what sort of training they had given him. Now, he was older, stronger, and hungry for revenge.

"Weiss is one of my oldest friends. I'm going to Atlas," she stated. "If you want a chance at these guys, you're welcome to join me. Unless you'd rather stay here and keep terrorizing Vale's street thugs."

"I'll do it," he said hastily.

Yang sighed. "Good," she chuckled. "Cause I already bought your plane ticket."

Jasper fell silent. A shot at avenging his parents? He'd be crazy not to take it. He stood up from his chair, picking up the other, far more important item that Andersmith had retrieved for him. His mother's red cloak. Now faded and tattered, the hooded cape was the only material thing he possessed that belonged to her.

As he donned the worn garment, Yang nodded in approval. "Alrighty then. Let's get outta here. I'll give you a lift home. You can pack for the trip. Only bring the essentials: your weapons, toothbrush, scroll, that kind of thing," she explained as they exited the office and began making their way out of the precinct. When Jasper inquired about a change of clothes, she laughed. "No. Only the clothes on your back. Trust me, back in the day, we'd be wearing the same outfits for weeks at a time. It was disgusting but necessary."

"Oookay..." he replied nervously. "Anything else?"

"Nothing that can't wait," she concluded.

* * *

On the ride back to Jasper's apartment, they didn't do much talking. Mostly due to the fact that they were on Yang's motorcycle, Stinger. Carrying on a conversation would not only have been difficult, but downright dangerous. Yang was an adrenaline junkie, but that didn't mean she was partial to a head-on collision at eighty miles an hour. The bike tore through the city streets. To Jasper, it would have been a lot of fun, had he not been crammed into the sidecar.

Jasper lived in the downtown "Cauldron," as it was referred to by the citizens of Vale. It was where all of the city's bums, junkies, and lowlifes congregated in one big melting pot of filth and poverty.

When they finally reached his apartment building, it was close to midnight. All of the outdoor lights on the structure were out. Jasper stumbled out of the tiny, metal container and clambered to his feet.

"Well, thanks for the ride," he grunted.

"Don't mention it," came Yang's reply through the dark. "Meet me at the airport at five sharp. We'll be taking a Hunter Class flight directly to Atlas. That means we can bring our weapons on the plane without having to go through all the paperwork. I'll explain the rest of what I know then."

He nodded, even though he knew that she couldn't see him. "Right. Good night, Aunt Yang."

"Night, kid." And with that, she was gone. Speeding out of the parking lot, tires screeching and engine roaring all the way.

Jasper turned on his scroll to use as a makeshift flashlight. With it, he found his way to his room. The complex was actually more of a motel, all of the dwellings were single-room apartments with little more than a sink, toilet, and stove. Laundry and shower facilities were in a community area on the ground floor. Needless to say, it wasn't the nicest or friendliest place to live. Not a night went by that he didn't hear yelling, puking, or wildly loud fornicating coming from somewhere nearby.

As he entered the pit he called home, Jasper noticed a sickeningly sweet and sour odor emanating from his bag.

"Dammit!" he hissed.

He'd forgotten all about the ice cream, milk, and cookies that he had with him. The stench only grew in intensity as he focused on it. He got to the point where, in order to free himself of it, Jasper simply opened the door and tossed it out over the railing into the night. So what if it was rude? He'd get it in the morning...probably.

He leaned back against the door and slid down to the floor as it was pushed shut, flipping a light switch on the way down. With a sigh, he gazed at his meager abode. It was little more than a large closet, barely eight feet by eight feet. At the base of the back wall, sat an old mattress covered in blankets. Nearby, there was a minifridge that stored his perishable foods for each week. The small, metal box also served as a shelf, on which he kept his scroll charger and various knick-knacks.

In place of a window or any other sort of wall decor, there hung a sink that he made doubly sure to keep clean along with a mirror. Beside it, there was a small closet which contained a toilet. And finally, directly next to the entrance, was a single-eye electric stove, used to cook all of his meals.

All in all, the place was a dump, but it was home. And Jasper would much rather have been here as opposed to sharing a house with Yang. There was something freeing about providing for himself and living under his own roof.

However, a turd is still a turd, no matter how much you polish it. And despite all of the of the freedom he felt, he wanted something more. Maybe he would find what truly made him happy out in the world, as Yang said, on this mission to Atlas.

"One thing's for sure," he told himself. "I am _not_ gonna miss this place."

The thought of leaving Vale was more than a little intimidating. The farthest he'd ever been out of the Kingdom were his yearly visits to his parents' graves on Patch. But even that was just a few hundred miles. Tomorrow, he would be getting on a plane and flying thousands of miles away, to a different continent. It was a lot to think about.

"But, that's future Jasper's problem," he said cheerily, knowing full well that he would be future Jasper in a few hours.

With that, he decided to start packing for the trip. Picking up an old duffle bag, he walked over to a chest, which contained all of his clothing. He remembered what Yang had told him. _"Only the clothes on your back."_ As such, he stuck with the outfit he was currently wearing. However, he did stuff a warmer shirt and a few extra pairs of boxers in his travel bag. He wasn't an animal, after all. Next came the other essentials. His toothbrush, a spare blanket, and his weapon maintenance gear.

Finally, Jasper lifted up the mattress. Underneath, he pulled a couple of loose floorboards up. From within the hidden stash, he produced two items: one long and pole-like, and the other, the same length of his forearm but a little wider.

First, he examined the larger of the two. It was his main means of offense, _Blutrache_, a katana-style sword. Fully unsheathing it, he inspected the ruby colored blade for any imperfections. Finding none, he pressed a small switch on the hilt, which caused another, much shorter blade to extend from the pommel. Jasper had designed it so that this second edge could be detached and used to dual-wield. Satisfied with the weapon, he slid it back into its sheath and placed it on his bag.

He then turned his attention to _Blutrache's_ companion, _Valorschutz_. An uncommon tool by huntsman standards, _Valorschutz_ was a shield that he strapped to his left forearm and used for parrying blows. By no means could it stop a full-on assault, but it was useful for redirecting hits and creating openings. And, much like his sword, Jasper had also included a fun surprise into the buckler. On its underside, he had attached a high-caliber pistol, which, admittedly lacked in range but more than made up for it in stopping power.

When used effectively in combat, the pair were a force to be reckoned with.

"Well, my babies," he whispered almost lovingly to the instruments of death. "You might actually see some action soon. How 'bout that?"

Over the next hour or so, Jasper gathered and sorted the rest of his gear for the trip. After a while, he tried to lie down and get some sleep, only to be roused by his scroll's alarm twenty minutes later. As he headed out the door, he took one last look at the apartment. He thought to himself about how much the concept of going on this revenge quest scared him. And of the fact that no matter what, he wasn't going to come back the same, if he came back at all. However, the fear soon faded and was replaced by excitement and a sense of adventure. This was a good thing, he finally decided.

* * *

The next thing Jasper knew, he was taking his seat on the plane with Yang beside him. Their passage through customs was all a blur, most likely a result of sleep deprivation. Although, hunters did get special treatment on most airlines. He and Yang had been allowed to keep their weapons on the plane, didn't need to have their bags searched, and were the first passengers on board.

As he settled in, Yang turned to him. "Nervous? Excited? Wishing you had stayed in bed? Which is it?"

"I think all of the above," he chuckled somewhat groggily.

"Good. That's how I know you're a person and not some alien robot from the future that's come to steal my brain."

It was her corny sense of humor that had always helped to put Jasper at ease as a child. And now it seemed to be helping yet again.

"Wow," he replied. "I don't think I've ever heard someone successfully reference every sci-fi movie in existence, but you just did it. Impressive."

They bantered on for a few more minutes until they heard the pilot's voice come crackling over the intercom.

_"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. We are beginning take-off on our nonstop flight to Atlas,"_ his tone was quite chipper and whimsical, a frame of mind that Jasper felt a pilot should not have. _"Folks, just sit back, enjoy the ride, and we thank you for choosing Achieve Airlines."_

The aircraft rumbled as it began taxiing toward the runway. Making Jasper grip his armrest like a vice. Unfortunately, he had inherited his father's motion sickness and fear of heights. A fact that he was none too pleased about at the moment.

Seeing this, Yang laughed, earning her a glare from her nephew. "I'm sorry, but I can't help it," she giggled. "Your dad was the same way when I first met him. I can't believe it, I'm sitting next to Vomit Boy Jr.!"

The new nickname infuriated him. But, he was afraid to speak, as he might have puked if he did.

When they were in the air, the sensation passed for the most part. He still felt a little queasy, but he wasn't sick to his stomach. In an attempt to calm himself, he let his mind wander, drowning out his aunt's chuckles.

The tactic proved quite effective, Jasper felt his muscles unwind and his anxiety lessen. Although, he couldn't help but feel like he'd forgotten something.

"Oh, crap!" he exclaimed suddenly.

He'd left the rotten milk and ice cream in the parking lot.

* * *

**A/N: So, what do ya think? A lot of liberties will be taken in future chapters in regards to "past" events, or things that haven't happened in RWBY yet.**

**If I didn't make it clear enough, Jasper is the son of the late Ruby and Jaune. And if anybody's wondering, this story takes place twenty-four years in the future.**

**I hope you enjoyed. Leave a review, it helps me understand what people want from my stories. Thanks.**

**P.S. I plan on releasing chapters for this fic every other week.**


	2. Arc Genes and Ice Queens

**A/N: Here we go again.**

* * *

Jasper and Yang touched down in Atlas after a long, dull flight. The monotonous journey was made interesting by Jasper's frequent trips to the aircraft's toilet for his guts to discard their mortal coil. As the plane rolled to a stop, the pilot's chipper voice once again rang out on the intercom.

"Ladies and gents, we have arrived in Atlas. Please exit the aircraft in a calm and orderly fashion and thank you for flying with Achieve Airlines."

"Yeah...screw you, buddy," Jasper groaned, clutching his stomach.

Yang snickered, just as she had every time he'd jumped up and rushed to the plane's tiny wash closet. However, this time she laughed because his appearance had caught her completely off guard. Her nephew's face had a greenish tinge to it, his eye was sunken, and he was sweating profusely.

"Enjoy the ride, kiddo?" she asked sarcastically.

Instead of answering, Jasper raised his hand and shot her a rude gesture.

This elicited more chuckles from the Huntress. Placing one of his arms over her shoulder, she helped him stumble to his feet. Yang really did feel for the kid. When arranging his genes, the universe had apparently seen fit to give him the unfortunate trait that was the bane of his father's existence. However, she would never tell him as much, as she viewed it as a sort of payback for all the crap he'd put her through over the years.

She and Jasper were some of the first passengers off, as they were seated on the exit row. As they walked through the gate, Yang held up a badge to a security guard, proving that they had Huntsman clearance. The bored-looking man guided them to a desk where they registered their weapons. Atlas, being a highly militaristic Kingdom, had strict regulations on travelers bringing in weapons. They had to clear Blutrache, Valorschutz, and Ember Celica to be allowed to carry them within Atlas's borders. The only real annoyance was having to declare Yang's arm as a weapon, because of the concealed shotgun in the wrist. After signing all of the required paperwork, they were allowed to leave the terminal.

The pair navigated through the crowds of humans and faunus alike bustling to and fro around the building. Men and women in suits talked loudly into scrolls. Parents struggled to keep their children under control while attempting to board their flights. Jasper even watched a young man get detained for trying to sneak a pocket knife past security.

Once they made it out of the legion of people, it was a straight shot to the exit. Jasper was glad that he'd packed a warmer shirt as they stepped out into the crisp Atlesian air. Despite it only being the beginning of fall, the wind still howled and bit with the cold of winter. Grey clouds blanketed the sky, adding even more to the dreariness.

The chilly air did wonders to help Jasper overcome the last of his nausea. As it filled his lungs, his head became clearer and gave a sigh of relief.

"Feeling better?" Yang noted.

He nodded. "Oh yeah. Now that we're out of that giant pressurized soup can."

She laughed as they continued walking into the airport parking lot. "Good. Cause you'll want to be at a hundred percent when we meet the Ice Queen."

"Right, speaking of which..." Jasper pointed.

Parked about one hundred feet away, in a VIP spot, was a sleek, black SUV. It was the kind of thing a politician or a military official owned, a vehicle built to take punishment and survive. Beside it, stood a woman in a white blazer and a matching loose skirt. Even though her back was toward them, Jasper could tell that it was Weiss Schnee. He recognized the shoulder-length snow-white hair, the expensive choice in clothing, and the impatient, regal posture from the photos that Yang had in her house and the few times he's met her as a kid.

She was speaking into her scroll and as they grew closer, it sounded as though she wasn't happy with whomever she was conversing.

"Miss Rouge," she snapped. "There really is a simple solution to this matter. If the workers won't work, they will not be paid they're wages. If you disagree with that method, figure something else out. I just want this situation resolved before tonight."

She paused, allowing the person on the other end of the line to speak. Yang and Jasper remained silent, even as they reached Weiss. Whether they were close friends or not, Yang didn't want to risk the Dust tycoon's wrath by interrupting her phone call.

"Yes, Ebony, I understand. But you wanted to be put in charge of the Vacuo branch, and while I technically own it, the R.D.C.D. is your company. You're the one that makes all the decisions. Give the issue some thought, I have no doubt you'll make the right one."

As she powered off her scroll and placed it in her coat pocket, Weiss sighed and her posture seemed to loosen a bit. She began massaging her temples, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly.

"You okay, Princess?" Yang asked cautiously.

The CEO's answer came suddenly in the form of the barrel of a small pistol being whipped into their general direction. Weiss's eyes were wide with terror. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks. It dawned on Jasper that the first assassination attempt had truly rattled her to her core. Why else would she pull a gun on an old friend inquiring as to her condition?

Yang threw her hands up. "Whoa, whoa, easy there, Weiss-icle. It's just me."

"Yang!" she gasped, covering a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. If I had known it was you I-"

When she was able to get a look at them, the white-haired woman relaxed. She closed her eyes and placed her unarmed hand on her forehead.

"Hey, forget about it," Yang dismissed. "For all you knew, I was some crazy mugger."

Weiss shook her head, holstering the handgun once more in her coat. "I could have killed you. Dammit, that's the third time this week that I've almost fired on someone."

Yang approached and placed her hands on Weiss's shoulders, staring into her eyes. "Look at me. You're just stressed, that's all." Weiss nodded slowly. "Besides, that dinky little piece wouldn't've done any more than stung for a bit," Yang chuckled, pulling her into a hug. "It's good to see you."

Gladly returning the embrace, Weiss appeared as though a great weight had been suddenly lifted from her. "Likewise, Yang." As they released each other, Weiss turned her gaze to Jasper, who was genuinely smiling at the reunion happening in front of him. "And you as well, Jasper. I can honestly say that I wasn't expecting you to join Yang."

He shrugged. "Yeah well, it was an excuse to get out of Vale for a while."

"He means he was tired of gettin' thrown in the clink and me having to bail him out," Yang said flatly.

"Ah, well...It's good to see you, nonetheless," Weiss laughed nervously. "You've grown since the last time I saw you. How long has it been? Four years?"

"Almost five, actually," Jasper corrected.

In fact, the last time they'd seen each other was nearly a year to the day after the attack that claimed his parents' lives and his eye. She, Yang, and Blake Belladonna, the third member of Team RWBY, had gotten together at Ruby and Yang's childhood home on Patch. It was sort of a memorial for their fallen leader, and they had planned to do it every year. However, Yang's life as a Huntress, Weiss's responsibilities at the S.D.C., and whatever Blake did got in the way of those plans. He remembered Weiss coming around and visiting more often before they died. She and his mother were the best of friends, and Jasper supposed that that was the main reason she started getting lost in her work. Perhaps it was a means to forget the grief.

"Oh. I do apologize for that, then. I tend to lose track of time, what with all of the different business deals and contracts flying in and out of my office. I rarely even have time to sleep." She straightened her blazer and cleared her throat. "But, there'll be time to catch up later. For now, let's get going. Call me paranoid if you wish, but I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched."

As she finished talking, a tall, amber-haired man in a tailored black suit climbed out of the driver side door. He approached them, bowing his head respectfully and took each of their bags. After stowing them in the trunk, he opened the back door of the car, motioning for them to enter. Once they had, she climbed in herself.

The vehicle had two nice leather two-person seats facing each other. The tinted windows were most likely bulletproof, it was Weiss Schnee they were riding with, after all. A divider stood between them and the driver seat, so unless he lowered the glass, they could speak without him hearing them.

Before the door was shut, Weiss addressed the man, "Thank you, Oliver."

"Of course, Miss Schnee," he replied cheerily.

Trying to keep their conversation light-hearted before moving on to the real reason for their stay in Atlas, Yang nodded her head towards the man. "New butler?" she asked.

As she settled into her seat, Weiss poured herself a glass of some amber-colored liquid. Seeing Jasper eyeing the contents, she turned the bottle to give him a better view.

"No, Jasper," she chuckled. "I'm not trying to get drunk in the middle of the day. It's apple juice, I've developed quite the fondness for it as of late."

He found it a little funny how a woman of her wealth and class shared the same tastes as children in kindergarten. Not that it was any of his business or concern.

"And yes, Yang," she continued, facing the blond huntress. "Oliver is my new personal butler."

"What happened to the other one? I kinda liked him. Don't tell me you had to go and fire him."

Weiss shook her head in disagreement. "Not at all, Klein merely retired. And, while it will never quite be the same without him, I hired Oliver here as a replacement. It wasn't too hard of a choice, considering he is Klein's nephew."

As if on cue, the glass divider rolled down and Oliver turned to face them. "Where to, Miss Schnee?"

"Straight home, if you please, Oliver," she sipped her juice. "I believe I've had enough of the city for a while."

* * *

She and Yang began talking and catching up on what had been going on in each other's lives. To look at them, Jasper could have assumed that there _wasn't_ a big bullseye painted on Weiss's back.

However, it was good to see the woman again. And he was content to let them chat, despite having next to no interest in the conversation. After a few minutes, he got bored and retrieved his earphones and scroll from his pocket. Putting them on, he sifted through his music collection, eventually settling on a playlist that was a favorite of his mother's. Quick, loud guitar riffs filled his ears as soon as he pressed 'Play' on the first song: _'This Will Be The Day.'_

He gazed out the window, taking in the various sights of Atlas. It really was a beautiful and amazing city - what little he could see of it, that is. As a result of being a literal floating city, it was perpetually shrouded in clouds. Peeking out above the haze, the tops of skyscrapers could be seen. Beyond them, however, was the far more impressive and imposing Atlas Academy, appearing similar to Beacon in that its architecture was akin to a castle. Likely because it probably _was _the home of some monarch of Mantle before the Great War.

Turning his attention from the horizon to the city streets they were traveling on, Jasper marveled at just how hardy the average Atlesian was. With as cold as it was, he couldn't imagine what winter felt like. To be able to not only survive but thrive in such a harsh climate was a feat in and of itself.

The citizens that they passed by were of many different color, creed, and class. Atlas as a whole, over the past decade or so, had become much more progressive and open to the idea of equality between humans and faunus, so it wasn't a shock to see the two interacting a fair bit more than the kingdom's history would've suggested. If only to drive the idea home even further, near the center of the city, Jasper noticed a large statue of two men shaking hands; a symbol of unification. He recognized them as General James Ironwood of Atlas and Chieftain Ghira Belladonna of Menagerie. Believe it or not, some of old Professor - sorry, _Doctor_ \- Oobleck's lessons _had_ actually stuck with him.

Past the statue, was the Schnee Dust Compay's corporate headquarters. The building was tall, even by the standards of the rest of the city, covered from the ground up in crystal clear glass panes, and positively crowded. Hundreds of employees rushed into and out of the entrance. He'd always know that Weiss was one the most powerful people in the world, but to see it - even such a small instance of it - for himself was enough to make his head spin. Then Jasper recalled why he and Yang were in Atlas in the first place.

She was rich enough to have her own private army at her beck and call, and she was running scared from a little group of thugs. The look in her eyes when Yang had startled her in the parking lot had said it all. The assassins had come close to killing Weiss once already, an experience that had done more than just rattle her a bit. She was practically falling apart at the seams.

If their opponents could do that to one of the saviors of Remnant, what did that mean for him?

Rather than dwell on the subject and rile himself up, Jasper decided to push all thoughts of the mission out of his mind. Closing his eye and leaning his head back, he relaxed and let the adrenaline-fueled rock music take him over. He was exhausted from the flight, as he'd spent most of it either vomiting or trying not to vomit. After a few minutes, sleep came and took him.

* * *

When he awoke, the car was parked in what appeared to be an underground garage. About ten other cars sat in a row to the left and right, each one the same make and model as the one they were in, merely painted a different color. Let it never be said that Weiss Schnee didn't know what she liked and wasn't wealthy enough to afford it.

Speaking of, she and Yang had already exited the vehicle and were still idly chatting like the old friends they were. Patiently holding the car door open was Oliver, waiting for him to climb out. Despite him having not said anything, Jasper could also feel that the butler was getting a little annoyed; so he took the hint and stumbled groggily out of his seat and into the cold, cement carport.

"Sleep well, Mister Arc?" he inquired.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Thanks," Jasper replied as he stretched in an attempt to alleviate some of the soreness in his muscles.

"If you are feeling a bit stiff from your flight, there is a training gym on the grounds."

Oliver must have had a Semblance that allowed him to read minds because Jasper was just about to ask if there was anywhere he could go to burn off some energy. The man had an almost knowing smile when he saw Jasper taken aback by his prediction.

"Um...Y-yeah, sure that'd be great."

Taking notice that he was awake and up, Weiss put her conversation with Yang on pause and came over to speak to Jasper. She seemed much calmer and collected now that they were in the fortress that was Schnee Manor.

"Well, now that we're here," she stated. "why don't we head inside and discuss the true reason you're both here over dinner. I'm sure you're both hungry after nine hours of nothing but that slop they call 'airline food.'"

Jasper's stomach rumbled in agreement. He hadn't really eaten since before he was arrested the previous night and by now he was famished.

Weiss laughed. "I'll take that as a 'yes.' Follow me, there is already a meal prepared for us in the dining hall." She started leading them towards the entrance to the house, turning at the last second to Oliver, who was still standing by the car. "If you would, Oliver, please take Yang and Jasper's bags and weapons to their respective rooms."

"Certainly, Miss Schnee," he nodded respectfully.

With that, Weiss guided them into Schnee Manor. The way they came in was merely a small entryway, even still Jasper was awestruck with just how grandiose and pristine the place was. They stood in a long hallway, which looked to have hundreds of doors lining each side. Ornate tapestries of blue and white, beautiful painting, and intricately carved statues of knights in suits of armor ran all along the walls. Spaced out between these, were windows that provided a truly magnificent view of the Atlesian mountains. Even the floor was impressive. Flawless, meticulously cleaned, and polished to a mirror sheen, the dark hardwood had nary a scratch or scuff in sight.

And that was just _one hallway_. Weiss led them down and around a corner into what Jasper could only assume was the main hall. Two massive marble staircases curved out from the second floor, meeting in front of a large door of the same wood and polish as the floor. From the ceiling hung a crystal chandelier the likes of which he'd only ever seen in photos. Evening sunlight beamed through the grand windows above the door and refracted in the ornament, speckling the room with flecks of mystifying light.

He clearly hadn't hidden is amazement, as Yang chuckled when she noted his expression. "It's a lot to take in the first time, isn't it?"

"I'm not going to try and be modest and say it's nothing. This house is quite impressive, yes," Weiss said.

Jasper, still too dumbstruck to speak, simply nodded.

The rest of the house wasn't any less magnificent. All of the rooms they passed on the way to the dining hall had just the same amount of beauty and craftsmanship put into them. Their destination, the dining room had a chandelier, similar to the one in the main hall, but smaller. In the middle of the room was a long, wooden table adorned with candles, a finely made tablecloth, and expensive china plates and bowls. Along the back wall stood a great stone fireplace, above which hung a painting of the entire Schnee family. They were greeted by a petite young faunus in a chef's garb, a fluffy, red fox tail waving back and forth behind her. She smiled as they entered the room.

"Welcome home Miss Schnee. I assume that these are our honored guests?"

Weiss nodded, echoing her smile. "Yes, this is Yang Xiao Long and her nephew Jasper Arc, they will be staying with us for a while."

The cook approached and shook Yang and Jasper's hands one after the other, making sure to keep her cherry-red eyes trained on theirs as she did.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Garnet Cook - ironic, I know - and I am Miss Schnee's personal chef," the woman explained. "If you're ever wanting something whipped up, I'm your girl."

"I think we'll take you up on that, actually," Yang said, gesturing to Jasper. "We're both pretty hungry after our flight."

Garnet nodded, still smiling. "Of course, give me just a moment, I'll be right back."

With that, she turned on her heel and almost skipped into the kitchen, her tail flitting through the air.

"Well, she's...interesting," Yang noted, taking her seat at the table. "Not the kind of attitude you'd expect from someone working for _you_."

Weiss chuckled as she placed her napkin in her lap. "Yes, Garnet does bring a certain amount of levity to the place, doesn't she?"

Once they were all settled around one end of the table - so they could converse without having to shout - the faunus returned pushing a cart. The array of smells emanating from it caused Jasper's mouth to start watering. He stared at the plates as they were placed on the table one by one, regretting that he only had the one eye to stare with. Their meal consisted of three courses: a starting soup, an expertly cooked steak with stewed potatoes, and some kind of fancy chocolate dessert that Jasper couldn't even pronounce the name of.

"Okay, let me just say that _this," _he motioned toward the heavenly spread before them. "looks fantastic. All the misery of the plane ride was worth it now."

Garnet's smile only grew wider. "Well, I'm glad. It's not often I get to cook for guests. Occasionally higher-ups from the S.D.C. come to discuss business, but very rarely do I get to meet them personally."

She stayed for a few more minutes, watching to see if the food really was as good as he said it looked. Her thoughts were soon put to rest with Jasper, Yang, and Weiss all complimenting her, saying that it was beyond what they expected. The girl seemed to have a great weight lifted from her shoulders by their praises. After they'd all finished their meals, with even more statements as to the food's quality, Garnet wheeled yet another cart out of the kitchen. Placing a steaming pot of coffee, three mugs, and containers filled with cream and sugar on the table, she bowed slightly and made to leave.

"If any of you have need of me, just give me a call."

"Thank you very much, Garnet. Would you mind closing the door on your way out, please? I'd like us to be able to speak in private," Weiss told her.

"Of course. Have a nice night, Miss Schnee."

She pulled the large wooden doors shut as she exited, leaving the three of them alone in silence. For a moment, the only sound heard was the occasional crack from the blaze within the fireplace.

Yang was the first to speak. "Okay, so I guess it's time we address the Goliath in the room. Weiss, tell us about the attack. What happened?"

The Ice Queen poured herself a cup of coffee with cream and a heavy sigh. "There's not really all that much to tell, honestly. The whole ordeal, while terrifying and awful, was over rather quickly." She took a sip of her coffee. "I got up to deliver a speech about the labor strike in Vacuo. I can't afford to appear on edge in front of the press, so I suppose I subconsciously let my guard down. My security team was like children playing with cap-guns compared to the group that attacked me. Not a single one of them survived the initial strike."

They both listened intently while Weiss spoke, hanging on every word.

"The assassins were skilled, definitely huntsman trained, if not military. Despite setting fire to the building, they knew exactly what to do to keep from having civilian casualties. Apparently, I and my security detail were the only ones in any sort of real danger."

It was a decent plan. Set the place alight, and in all the chaos, they had a clear shot to get at Weiss.

"How many were there?" Jasper asked. If what Yang had told him was to be believed, and these _were _the ones that had killed his parents, he wanted to know as much as he could about them.

Weiss pondered for a few seconds, trying to recall all of the details. "I want to say six, though there may have been others that I didn't see."

"Any notable things you can remember? Fighting styles? Weapons? Clothing? Did any of them call each other by name?" Yang inquired.

"Well, they all fought differently. Some of them used hand-to-hand, lightweight weapons, firearms and a few others. Nothing you wouldn't expect from killers. They were professional enough not to address one another with anything other than simply warnings and callouts. As for their attire, it consisted mainly of black hoods, face masks, and cloaks. Again, nothing out of the ordinary for assassins."

Yang's brow furrowed and she rubbed her chin contemplatively. Jasper could see the gears turning in her head. Her expression told that she had the same thoughts he did.

"So they set the place on fire first, used the confusion to slip past your guards, and get to you. Black clothing, highly trained and experienced. And they're not afraid to go after high-risk targets," she summarized. "Yeah, I think these might be the guys that killed Ruby and Jaune."

An eerie draft blew through the room, causing the fire to waver. The air grew cold and the lights dimmed slightly, as though their ghost were listening in on the conversation. Jasper grit his teeth and clenched his fists, fighting back the urge to fling his coffee mug against the wall.

Weiss, while troubled by the assumption, had clearly anticipated it and nodded somberly. "Yes, that was my thought as well. On top of the similarities, there is another reason I believe the two groups are one and the same." She took another sip of coffee let out a deep breath. "Before the attack, I was curious and started doing some digging into Jaune and Ruby's murder. It wasn't exactly a subtle affair and at first, I thought that was a mistake made on the assassins' part."

"But then I saw the surgical precision with which they operate and I realized, they wanted people to see and know it was happening. They wanted to cause a scene and spread chaos," she paused, her words sinking in. "And I would hope that we all know what that brings."

Yang and Jasper nodded in unison. "The Grimm," Jasper affirmed.

"Right. What better way to stir up negative emotions in people than to eliminate two of Remnant's greatest heroes?"

She spoke truth. There had been fallout from the Arc-Rose deaths outside of their close family and friends. The worldwide surge of fear and panic had caused an equally intense rise in Grimm activity. Which, in turn, had seeded more negativity. The attacks subsided after a while, as people began to move past the loss of their saviors. Now, after six whole years, the only ones that truly cared anymore were the ones that knew them.

Weiss continued. "I tried to figure out who would benefit from the increase in Grimm assaults, but the only person that came to mind was Salem. And that's impossible. Equally so for her followers, as they're all either dead or in prison. All except Emerald, of course, but she renounced Salem near the end if you remember."

Yang acknowledged it. Jasper had a very limited understanding of the people to which Weiss was referring. While everyone knew of Salem and lieutenants, very few knew much more than the bare minimum. He recalled the name Emerald from stories his parents had told him as a child. Emerald Sustrai, one of Salem's more...reluctant servants had left the witch and joined with Ruby near the end of the secret war for Remnant. Now she was somewhere in Mistral if he was not mistaken.

"Who do you think was behind it, if not one of them?" Jasper asked.

Weiss shook her head and sighed. "Unfortunately, all my digging caught someone's attention and that is when they made an attempt on _my_ life."

"So, either somebody didn't like you snooping around, or it was just an unhappy coincidence."

"Kid, in our line of work, there's no such thing as coincidence. Happy or otherwise," Yang explained. "That means that Weiss made whoever murdered your folks nervous enough to send their goons out again. She was getting close to finding something out." Turning to face the white-haired woman, she continued. "Please tell me you have an idea of who we're looking for now?"

"Again, much to my chagrin, no. I only know that they're smart enough not to leave any sort of paper trail or personal touch to their operations. That makes me think that all interactions between the assassins and their employer are handled in person."

_"Damn it all,"_ Jasper thought. "So, we don't have any leads? Where does that leave us?"

Yang stood up and stretched with a groan and a yawn. "It leaves us waiting. I have a feeling these guys are gonna try their luck again. And when they do, we'll be ready for 'em." She downed the remainder of her coffee. "For now, I need a shower and my beauty rest. I'm guessing I'm staying in the same room as I did last time I was here, Weiss?"

Weiss replied with a nod.

"Okay then. Night all."

Jasper sat in silence for a few minutes, running all of the information he'd just processed in his head over and over again. Weiss too was content with the quiet, likely doing the same. The entire situation was insane in his eye. Just the night before, he'd been in Vale sitting in a jail cell for the fifth weekend in a row. Now he was all the way up in Atlas, staying at the Schnee Family mansion, awaiting a group of highly-trained, blood-thirsty killers to make a move on Weiss. It simply boggled the mind.

After about five minutes of sitting at the table with Weiss, Jasper decided to retire as well. Standing up, he turned to her. "Thanks for the food, I guess. And for the...well, everything."

The woman chuckled and got up with him. "You're very welcome, but I didn't cook the meal and Yang and yourself are here to protect me. If anything, _I_ should be thanking _you._ I honestly wish I could do more for you two."

"Yeah, I suppose that's right," he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I mean there _is_ one thing you could do."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

He laughed. "You could show me where I'm sleeping. I feel like I'd get lost if I went by myself."

Weiss smiled and sighed. "You're just like your parents. Neither one of them had any sense of direction, either."

* * *

Wiess and the young man exited through the large door into the hallway, closing it behind them. Unfortunately, that meant they were out of sight for the black-garbed faunus hidden outside the dining room window. From his perch in a frozen tree, he'd been able to observe the entire meal under the cover of darkness. He hadn't been able to hear what any of them had said, despite the enhanced hearing the white hare ears atop his head gave him. However, it didn't really matter what they talked about, his boss would be pleased with the fact that he'd been able to slip onto the property undetected.

Pressing and finger to the wireless earpiece in his human ear, he called in. "This is Cotton." - yes, his name was really Cotton -

_"Report," _came the crackling reply.

"Schnee has two new guests, huntsmen, by the looks of it. One male, one female, both human."

_"Any way you ID'd them?"_

"The man I didn't recognize, but the woman.." he paused, smiling evilly. "Our job just got a lot easier. It's Yang Xiao Long."

There was no response for a beat.

_"You're certain?"_

"Absolutely. Long blonde hair, bionic arm, and an outfit that looked like it was about to pop open. It's her."

The man on the other end of the line chuckled, which, admittedly, didn't sound too pleasant over the radio. _"Maintain eyes on the house. Alert me if anything changes. Do not, under _any_ circumstances engage Schnee, Xiao Long, or their boytoy."_

Cotton nodded, realizing immediately that the action was idiotic, as he was communicating via audio. "Copy that."

_"Things are about to get fun."_

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the continuous lack of action. I know the story is listed as "Adventure," but there's a lot of exposition that needs to happen for the story to be the best it can be. Anyway, thanks for reading. Leave a review if you have any tips, suggestions or offensive remarks you want to kick my way.**


	3. Sleep With One Eye Open

**A/N: *Insert stupid Avenged Sevenfold joke here***

* * *

"Jasper!"

The voice was muffled and unclear as it wrenched him out of his slumber.

"Jasper! Wake up!"

His eyes shot open as he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake vigorously. Jasper looked up drowsily to see that his father, Jaune was the one responsible for rousing him. At first, he was annoyed, but then he noticed his expression. He wide-eyed, his face contorted into a mix of fear and anger, and he was breathing heavily.

"Dad? What's going on? What's wrong?" he asked sleepily.

Jaune shook his head as he pulled him out of bed. "There's no time to explain, come on. I've gotta get you out of here."

Jasper rubbed his eyes and cleared the sleep from them, as he did, more and more things made themselves known to him. His room felt hot, and he smelled smoke. Was something burning in the kitchen? No, that couldn't be right. Dad wouldn't have woken him up in the middle of the night simply because mom had messed up a batch of cookies. Then again, she wouldn't have been in the kitchen in the first place. It was one-o-clock in the morning for crying out loud.

Next to come to his attention was the now very loud noises coming from somewhere else in the house. They sounded like someone was slamming a car door shut over and over again. However, he knew that was incorrect. The sounds' were too frequent and were definitely coming from inside, possibly the living room.

_"Those aren't...gunshots, are they?"_ he thought.

They made their way out of Jasper's bedroom and into the hallway, walking slowly as if not to draw any attention. He turned to face Jaune, the man's face was hard and focused. He had never seen him like that before. He was always so gentle and friendly, not once had he shown that side of him that Ruby said he had. The bad side. The _h__untsman_ side. The cold and merciless attitude that he had acquired during their days fighting Salem. What's more, he was his sword, _Crocea Mors_, in his hand, although its companion shield was nowhere to be found.

"Dad, are we being attacked?"

Jaune did not answer and simply pulled him a little closer. As he did, Jasper accidentally bumped into his back. Pulling away, he felt something hot and sticky seep through his t-shirt. To begin with, he thought it might have been sweat; however, when he glanced down to look, the liquid had a dark hue to it. _Blood_. Jaune was bleeding, and profusely if Jasper had gotten so much on him just by brushing up against him. Come to think of it, he was also limping, not a lot, but enough to cause worry.

Jaune led him into his and Ruby's bedroom and closed the door behind him, locking it for good measure. The scent of smoke was getting stronger, the fire was engulfing the house.

"Yes, we are," huffed. His breaths were getting more and more labored. Likely a result of the wounds on his back going untreated.

"By who, who's trying to get us? And where's Mom?"

"I don't know, son. Your mom's downstairs, you don't need to worry about her," Jaune walked across the room to the closet. "Right now, I've got to make sure you're safe. Then I can help her."

He pulled the door open and motioned for Jasper to come inside with him. Once he joined him, Jaune flipped a small lever which activated a mechanism in the back wall, causing it to slide open, revealing a panic room of sorts.

"Let's hope Weiss's wedding gift doesn't go to waste, huh?" Jaune tried to let out what sounded like a laugh but was halted by a sudden onset of gurgling coughs. Jasper looked at with concern but was quickly pushed into the safe room before he could speak.

The chamber was a little bigger than the closet itself, LED lights shone brightly from the ceiling. All three walls had some different form of weapon or tool mounted on them. Everything a huntsman needs to stay alive in the event of a surprise home invasion. Dust rounds of all flavors, weapon maintenance kits and emergency medical supplies were organized neatly all over the room. All-in-all, it was the ultimate temporary shelter. The walls were lined with fireproof insulation and concrete so Jasper would be safe from the growing blaze downstairs. At least for the time being.

"Alright, you stay in here and don't come out," Jaune said sternly. "No matter what you hear, this door stays closed. Understand?"

Jasper could do little more than nod. He was old enough to realize that he'd be nothing but a burden to his parents in this kind of fight. They'd both trained him for a long as he could remember, however, he was nowhere near ready for real life-or-death combat.

"Good boy," Jaune reached out and tousled his son's black and red hair. "Don't worry, it's all gonna be okay. I'm going to go help your mom, and then we'll both come right up-" He was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door shattering, followed by a loud thud. The unconscious body of Ruby slumped into view, falling just in front of the closet door. "Ruby! Stay here," he commanded.

Adjusting his grip on _Crocea Mors_, Jaune limped cautiously out into the bedroom. Kneeling down, he placed his free hand on her forehead. She was bleeding from a large gash on her temple. Jasper heard his father curse as a tried and failed to amplify her Aura with his Semblance, his own reserves apparently being too low.

He then heard a new set of footsteps enter the room. They were heavy and loud like the person was wearing lead boots. Jasper felt like a child in a scary movie, listening to the monster walk around outside and being able to do nothing but sit there and hide.

The thunderous stomps finally stopped, and Jaune raised his weapon. With a murderous yell, he lunged toward the hidden figure. Fear gripped Jasper's mind, strangling it like a boa constrictor would its prey. His heart was pounding out of his chest. How could all of this be happening? He'd gone to bed that night excited to wake up and attend his first day at Signal Academy tomorrow. Now he was listening to his father battle for his life against some boogeyman-like assailant while his mother lay on the floor, near death.

It didn't make sense, everything people had told him about Ruby and Jaune suggested that they were almost superheroes. They had survived more than most could have, gone up against Salem, and saved the world. How did they get beaten in one night?

Jasper was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw his dad thrown back into view. He slammed against the wall, crushing the sheetrock and fell to his knees with a grunt. He coughed up and spit out another mouthful of blood as he struggled to regain his composure. The attacker did not let up, however. Out of nowhere, a storm of bullets tore through the air toward Jaune. Some missed and dug into the wall around him, others glanced off what little Aura he had left. He was able to deflect a lucky few with his sword, saving himself at least some amount of pain.

One thing neither Jasper, Jaune, nor the intruder anticipated, however, was that one of those shots that he managed to redirect, headed straight into the panic room. The bullet struck and burrowed into Jasper's left eye socket. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was a searing pain in his face. That, and his father's horrified screams of agony, guilt, and rage.

He awoke an unknown amount of time later. The pain in his face was still there and strong as ever. He might've cried if he'd still had tear ducts in that eye to cry with. Dried blood peeled off his right eyelid as he struggled to open it. Jasper recognized his surroundings as the Arc family's backyard. He determined that he must have been out for several hours at least because the house that had once stood in the center of the forested property was now nothing but a pile of smoldering rubble.

How had he gotten outside? Come to think of it, how was he even alive? Hadn't he taken a bullet to the face? Jasper tried to stand but found he was too weak to do more than sit up. Which was just as well, because when he looked around, he found something that sucked the drive to even move right out of him.

There on the grass lying still as a statue was Ruby. His mother. One of the two most important people in his life. He might have been happy to see that she made it out of the house, if not for the lifelessness in her silver eyes and the deep crimson streaks on the ground around her. She was dead, there was no mistaking it.

He attempted to cry out, but no sound escaped him. What came out was merely a hoarse cough. The taste of bile rose into his throat, bringing with it a torrent of disgusting fluids. Jasper turned away from the cold body of his mother so as not to risk catching her with any splashback.

When he had finished, he used every ounce of energy in his body to drag himself to her. The cut on her head was still there, however, now it was dry and scabbed over. Her red-streaked hair was matted and crusted with blood under her signature hood. Up and down her torso were many similar gashes, burns, and even one or two gunshot wounds.

As he took in the image, tears flowed out of his remaining eye, obscuring his vision. The salty droplets fell from his face and landed on Ruby's hands, which were clutching something against her chest.

Jasper glanced at the object, finding out that it was her scroll. What had been so important that his mother needed to use her scroll in her last few moments of life? Maybe she tried to call for help? Tried being the key word in that assumption. Obviously, no one had come, as he had been out for hours and she had likely been dead for about as long.

He wiped the tears from his eye and carefully pulled the device from Ruby's grasp, placing her hand back in its original position once he had. Unexpectedly, it still had power, not much, granted but enough. That was odd. It wasn't on the communication tab like he'd thought. Her last action was in the form of a video in the camera function. The screen was frozen on an image of Ruby's bloodstained face, tears streaming down, but with a lovingly sad smile. She had clearly recorded some sort of message. For whom, he had no way of knowing unless he watched it.

But did he really want to watch it? Did he want to hear her dying words, whether they were for him or anyone else? He hesitated, maybe he was still holding out hope that everything that happened wasn't real. Several minutes dragged by. Finally, Jasper worked up the nerve to press "Play" when he saw that the scroll's battery was almost gone.

The video came began with the camera shakily flipping around so Ruby could speak directly into it. He was right, it had indeed been taken hours ago, as the wound on her head was still fresh.

"Jasper, honey I know that you'll see this when you wake up. I honestly wish you were already awake so I could tell you this in person, but I don't think that's gonna happen," she coughed. He watched in horror as she started to cry. His mother rarely cried. On the few occasions that she did, it never lasted very long. But this...her heart was truly broken. "My Aura is gone, I'm losing blood, and I'm pretty sure I've been shot. But none of that matters. All that's important is that you're safe. Your dad made sure of it."

"You were dying, but he...he used that last of his Aura to boost yours, so that wound wouldn't kill you."

So Jaune was dead too? He supposed he expected it. The man would have -and now did - die before anything happened to his family.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you like this. There was so much I wanted to teach you; about the world, being a huntsman, your eyes...but now I can't. You're going to have to stay strong for me now, okay?"

She paused, taking a moment to wipe her eyes and look at Jasper's unconscious body in the video.

"I know that you wanted to go to Signal because you thought they would make you strong, but you don't have to. You're already strong and brave and kind, you make me so proud to call myself your mother. Don't ever forget that, and never stop growing. Go live your life; make friends, be the master of your own destiny, fall in love...do whatever makes you happy. And always remember that I love you. We both love you so much."

Ruby smiled with more love than he had ever seen.

"I can feel my eyes getting heavy...Be good for your Aunt Yang for me...I...love y-" The recording cut out.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the treetops, bringing with it a brand new day; but there was no joy to be had. No sense of renewal. There was only grief.

Jasper looked away from the screen and back to the real body of his mother. For some reason, she appeared different than when he'd first seen her. Her eyes seemed to be locked on him, and her mouth was twisted into a terrifying smile.

"What the-?"

He didn't even get to finish his thought before the world around him burst into flame. He suddenly realized that he was no longer reliving a memory, but trapped in a nightmare.

Jasper fused his eye shut. _"Wake up! Wake up!"_ he thought.

When he opened it, the fire was indeed gone; replaced by pure, empty darkness, and his body had aged to its current. Ruby was still there, however, still covered in blood and wounds, but standing upright. She stepped closer to him, he tried to move away out of fear but his body wouldn't obey his commands. He couldn't close his eye, turn his head, or do anything to avoid her. She had him completely entranced.

She stopped inches away from him, the wicked grin on her face now turned to a sneer of contempt.

_"You failed, Jasper,"_ she said. _"You let us die when you could have stopped it."_

Although he could not deny her his attention, Jasper tried his best to block out her words.

_"You let us die. And now you have to make that up to us...You have to avenge us."_

He gritted his teeth in defiance. "No. Get out of my head. You're not my mom, this is just a bad dream."

Ruby stretched out a hand and touched his cheek. Her skin was frigid and the contact sent shivers down Jasper's spine. _"You need to kill the one that killed me and Jaune,"_ she ignored him. _"They need to die; slowly, painfully, make them suffer for what they did."_

He stopped resisting her influence. A part of him agreed with her. The murdering bastards did deserve death at his hands. But...

Ghost-Ruby's evil smile returned. _"So, you know I'm right. Kill them. Kill all of them, they have it coming."_

But the real Ruby had always told him that all life was sacred. And that it was his responsibility as a Silver-Eyed warrior to safeguard it. He had never really understood what that last part had meant, she had died before she could teach him about his powers. But he knew that he was supposed to protect people, not kill them, whether they were deserving of mercy, or not.

It seemed as though the phantom sensed his hesitation, as she grabbed him by the neck and yanked him close to her. She stared right into his eyes as if she was looking into his very soul. _"You will kill them, you will kill or you will die,"_ she snarled. _"I'll tear your spirit from your body if you don't."_

"No."

Her eyes went wide, filling with rage. She squeezed his throat in an attempt to make him submit to her will. _"You will."_

"No, I won't."

Her grip strengthened. Jasper felt his windpipe being crushed and his vision started to go black. _"You'll never sleep another night. I will haunt your every thought for the rest of your miserable life."_

He tried to speak, but her hand clamped down harder, allowing little more than a pitiful squeak loose. Slowly but surely, he succumbed to the suffocation and the darkness around them enveloped him entirely.

* * *

Jasper gasped as he shot up in his bed, clutching his throat, thinking that the nightmare's hands were still there. Even though he'd known it was a dream, the whole experience of reliving that night and then the ghost's demands was terrifying. His heart was pounding; so much so that he thought he might need a doctor, he was drenched in a cold sweat, and his lungs felt like they were going to collapse.

After a minute or two, the muscles in his body relaxed and he remembered where he was. "You're fine," he whispered shakily to himself. "You're in Schnee Manor, and this is your room."

Jasper looked around to reassure himself. Yep, it was all still there. He was laying in bed that was much too big for just one person, wrapped in silk sheets and soft quilts. Beside the bed was a nightstand with a digital alarm clock. 2:16, the display read. Pale moonlight from the large window illuminated the rest of the room quite well, which only served to help calm him down even more.

Standing up slowly, Jasper winced when his bare feet made contact with the frigid hardwood floor. Forcing himself to adjust to it, he walked over to his bag. It was set against the wall, near the door. Blutrache and Valorschutz leaned up next to it. Despite how much he felt like he needed a weapon right now, he ignored them and picked up the tattered red cloak off the duffle.

Over the years, the garment had seen and taken a lot of abuse, as was evidenced by the many rips and tears that adorned it. But in spite of that, Jasper still considered it to be his most prized possession, both for the sentimental value and the fact that it just looked so badass. He could recall countless nights when nightmares similar to the one he'd just had would plague him, even before his parents were murdered. He would wake up crying about the Grimm underneath his bed or some other manner of childish fear. But no matter how many times it happened, Ruby would always be there to wrap him up in her cape with warm hug and smile. When he was really little, he'd actually believed the cloak was magic, for all its ability to make him feel safe.

Nowadays, the worn cloth still provided that kind of comfort. Putting it on, he pulled the hood up and lay back down on the bed. The last of his shakes had finally dissipated, and he was able to breathe again. Where he'd had chills before, now he felt warm and at peace.

Closing his eye, Jasper smiled and thought to himself, _"Huh, maybe this thing really is magic?"_

* * *

Morning came after a few more hours of peaceful sleep. Sunlight glinted through the window and shone into his eye. It seemed as though the nightmare had been just that: a nightmare. Jasper awoke calmly, but not rested, as the horrific dream had made the night hell.

He slowly rolled out of the massive bed. With an exaggerated groan, he stood and stretched. He glanced at the clock. It said 7:07. _"Not bad,"_ he thought. _"Five hours is better than nothing." _

Walking up to a chest of drawers, on the wall above which hung a mirror, he examined his face. There were dark circles in his eye sockets - well, one of them anyway - indicating that his sleep, what little he got, had not been restful. He never slept with his eyepatch on, on account of how uncomfortable it was, and the fact that he often slept on his stomach. Therefore now, he had an all too unpleasant view of the scarred and mangled flesh that was where his left eye _used_ to reside. Along with all the unpleasant memories surrounding it.

He harkened back to those first few months after Ruby and Jaune's deaths, and the sheer misery he experienced. As if losing his parents wasn't enough, Jasper also had to endure the horrible itching and annoying doctor visits that Yang and his other aunts made him go through. Then there was all the drama about deciding who would be his new guardian. His dad's eldest sister, Saphron - despite living on the other side of the world - had always been a sort of second mom to him. For a while, it looked like she and her wife would be the ones taking him in, but Yang had fought them tooth and nail, saying that Ruby had wanted _her _to take care of Jasper.

Looking back, he counted himself lucky to have such a large and loving family that cared so much about him. He knew there were other kids that went through similar ordeals with no one. Where would he have ended up if that were the case for him? He wondered. Would he have chosen the same paths in life that he had? Probably not.

Jasper smiled slightly, recalling the day when Yang had burst into her apartment, where he was staying with her, wearing the biggest, brightest grin he'd ever seen.

_"Saph finally gave up," _she laughed. _"You'n me're gonna be roomies from now on!"_ And that what it. Their living arrangement had been one similar to them being roommates instead of family. Yang left him to his own devices and he was content to give her the same courtesy.

She didn't coddle him, especially when it came to training. Of course, she didn't come at him with everything but damn if he didn't walk away with bruises, burns, and cracked ribs. It made him tough though. Gave him the mentality of a fighter; no matter what, he would never give in or back down from an enemy.

Jasper never enrolled at Signal as he had originally intended, but through Yang's teaching's and her own recommendation, he'd applied and been accepted into Beacon. At first, he felt that her backing him had caused Headmaster Pine to play favorites, given the two's history together. However, during the initiation, he saw that it was skill alone on which the Professor judged potential students, not merely word of mouth. Yang's training had helped, sure, but from what he saw, most of the other huntsmen-in-training had to earn their spots as well.

He'd been placed on a team, same as everyone else, and for the most part, they all got along. Team JJET wasn't the best group of students to ever walk Beacon's halls, but they certainly weren't the worst, either. They didn't get into any serious trouble, just the kind that awarded them a stern talking to and the occasional detention. Replacing Professor Bully's captive Grimm with balloon animals, secretly installing a voice modulator into the Headmaster's PA system, that kind of thing. They were even gearing up to compete in the Vytal Festival.

Jasper thoroughly enjoyed his time at the academy, short as it may have been. Towards the end of his first full year, he had an especially bad day. Sleep deprivation, a migraine, and the anniversary of his parents' deaths saw to that. Needless to say, he wasn't in the best mood; so when he overheard some stuck-up third-year make a joke about his mother, it made something in his head snap.

He couldn't remember any of the details, just that there had been lots of screaming, swearing, and blood. The one Jasper had attacked barely survived the encounter, having to have facial reconstructive surgery and eat all his meals through a straw. His theory about Pine playing favorites had been proven true when the man had gone easy him out of respect for Ruby's memory. Seeing fit to simply expel him.

Not long after, Jasper had gotten his own apartment, that crappy little hovel in the "Cauldron," and started doing under-the-table security work at a nightclub. Eventually, between being a glorified doorman and his regular training regimen, he picked up the hobby of dishing out steaming plates of street justice to Vale's petty criminals. Which led him to the routine of landing jail and Yang coming to bail him out. Which, in turn, caused him to fly halfway across the planet to Atlas on the chance that he could get a shot at revenge on the bastard that ruined his life. Funny how things came full circle.

After spending a good fifteen minutes contemplating the direction his life had taken up to that point, Jasper finally snapped out of his trance. Donning his leather eyepatch, he got dressed in silence and carried his weapons out the door.

_"Might as well get some training in before breakfast," _he thought.

On the way to his room the previous night, Weiss had also given him directions to the gym. However, that didn't make it any easier to find. He traversed the halls of the mansion for what felt like four hours when in reality it was only about ten minutes. Eventually finding it nearby to the Schnee's personal office. He met Oliver in the hallway as the butler was exiting office, a finished breakfast tray in his hands.

"Ah, good morning Mister Arc," Oliver greeted him cheerfully. "Off to get a bit of exercise in, are we? Or were you here to speak to Miss Schnee?"

"Yeah, just here to use the gym for a while. Don't wanna bother Weiss while she's busy."

"Very good, sir," the butler nodded. "I believe that Miss Xiao Long is also blowing off some smoke, as it were."

Jasper raised an eyebrow. "Wait, don't you mean blowing off some _steam_?"

As if on cue, there was a loud crash from inside the gym, partnered with the smokey burnt scent of spent Dust rounds. "No," Oliver replied dryly.

"Oh. That makes sense I guess," there was an awkward silence while they braced themselves for another explosion. When there was none, Jasper continued. "Welp, suppose I'd better get to it. I'll try to make sure she doesn't break anything _too_ expensive."

"That would be preferable, yes. Well, should you have need of me, do not hesitate to call."

Jasper nodded as he opened the door to the training room. "Thanks, I will."

* * *

Weiss's training room looked more like an Atlas military gym. The room had no windows, on account of being closer to the mansion's center. Along the back wall were various kinds of weightlifting machines, not unexpected, but not the kind one would normally see in a home gym. To the right, in front of a giant mirror that covered the whole wall, sat a row of treadmills and pull-up bars, again, nothing out of the ordinary.

In the center of the room was a sparring ring, about twenty feet wide and long, raised up from the ground with stairs on each of the four corners. Also protruding from each corner stood a kind of projector, pointed down into the arena. Hard light projectors, he realized. The concept was being talked about all over Beacon when he was still there, it was groundbreaking technology and it was very, _very_ expensive.

Apparently not so much so that Weiss Schnee couldn't afford it - that woman really did have one of everything. And that Yang was allowed access to it. At the moment she was in the middle of an intense battle with four artificial assailants. Well, calling it a _battle_ was a bit too generous; she was kicking the computer's electronic ass.

Two of the translucent figures struck at once, attempting to overwhelm Yang by attacking from in front and behind her. A move which proved ineffective when she sidestepped the one ahead of her and redirected its weapon into the other. The construct exploded into a shower of glittering particles. Without losing any momentum, she landed a solid, shotgun-assisted punch with her mechanized arm in the staggered one's back, taking it out of commission as well.

With its first attempt ending up in failure, the training AI must have realized it was on the back foot, as the remaining two combatants began to play more cautiously. However, even with all its calculations and predictions, the machine still had nothing on Yang's unmatched strength and brutality in combat. Where some fighters danced around their opponents, she powered _through_ them. Yang was an unstoppable force, yet to meet an immovable object to counter her.

Hard light bot number One tried to push her back with a volley of kicks and punches. None of which connected, simply allowing Yang to show off her impressive speed as well. This easily-dodged offense turned out to be a feint, however; while she was distracted, number Two flanked behind her. Jasper considered calling out to warn her but thought better of it immediately, it was a training match, after all. What good would it do her to have someone giving her assistance? Two actually managed to get a hit in, landing a precise jab on the back of Yang's head.

She was knocked forward, into yet another blow to the face from One. The strike was solid, sending her staggering to the left. It put some distance between her and them, which would've normally been a good idea...were she a standard brawler.

However, Yang Xiao Long was anything but standard.

Without missing a beat, she fired _Ember Celica _into the air behind her, propelling her forward with a wild yell. In an instant, the fight was over, as she collided with both Two and One. Reaching a hand around each of their polygonal heads, she smashed them into one another. The projections' bodies dissolved with a sound akin to that of glass shattering. Blue shards of hard light flew through the air before disappearing as the projector powered down.

To no one in particular, as she hadn't noticed Jasper standing silent at the edge of the arena, Yang laughed, "Now _that _was one head-_Yangin'_ fight!" If only to punctuate the pun, she slammed her fists together, cracking a few of her organic knuckles.

"_Ugh_, goddammit Yang!" Jasper groaned as he facepalmed.

She turned to face him and laughed again. As much as he claimed to hate them, he really did enjoy her stupid jokes and she knew it too. They were a pleasant quirk and a reminder that even a long-time war veteran and badass could have a childish and playful sense of humor.

"What? It was," she said defensively. Hopping down out of the ring, she walked over to a benchpress and picked up a towel and a bottle of water. She pressed the towel against her face, wiping off some of the sweat she was now drenched in. "D'you enjoy the show, kiddo?"

"What I caught of it, yeah. How long have you been at this?"

Yang sat down on the bench, taking a long swig of water. "Hmm...What time is it?" she asked, indicating that it had probably been a while. Judging by the state of her clothes, it should have been obvious. She was garbed in average work-out attire: dark grey sweatpants, a matching hoodie tied around her waist, and a bright yellow tank top. Sweat had soaked in and created a dark spot at the shirt's low neckline and her face and arms were glistening in the gym's LED light. Despite all that, however, she didn't show any signs of fatigue or injury from the fight.

"About seven-thirty."

"I've been here for two and a half hours," she stated matter-of-factly.

He nodded. "Yeah, guess I should've expected that you wouldn't sleep in."

Yang chuckled and ran a hand through her long golden hair, flipping over her shoulder. "It doesn't take as much sleep as you'd think to keep up this youthful beauty. Thank you Xiao Long genes."

Jasper couldn't help but release a snort of amusement. Another habit of hers was making sure everyone knew how good she looked for being her age. Usually via wearing clothing that accentuated her form - i.e. custom-fitted to be _way_ too small. As disgusting and pervy as it made him feel, had she not been his aunt, he couldn't help but think he might have made some kind of move on her. Come to think of it, he was almost definitely certain that there was an entire genre of porn dedicated to sick stuff like that.

_"Note to self: Clear browser history," _he thought with a slight shudder.

Thankfully, Yang spoke up and distracted him from the filthy gutter that was his own mind. "You look a little pale, you feeling okay, kiddo?" she asked, taking notice of the bags underneath his eye sockets and the lack of color in his face.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. I'm fine, just didn't sleep all that well last night," Jasper replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Had a bit of a nightmare."

She gasped as she finished off the last of the water in her bottle. "Oh?" she huffed. "What about?"

"Well, actually _this_," he gestured around them. "This whole mission."

She patted the spot next to her on the bench and he sat down. "What do you mean by that?"

"I never gave it much thought but...what are we gonna do when we catch the ones that killed my mom and dad?"

Her cheerfulness faded when she heard that, and her expression became more serious. "Honestly, I don't know," she admitted. "I've had to kill before, but I never liked it. I hated myself for it, in fact."

Her gaze hardened and she clenched her fists. "But these bastards murdered my sister. I may not enjoy it, but I'm thinking that I might just let the chips fall where they may. In other words, I don't plan on being merciful. Or on letting them get away."

"See, that's what I thought at first, too," Jasper said, rubbing the back of his neck with uncertainty. "But my mom always said that _everyone's _life is precious. Not just the ones we care about. What does it mean if I just ignore her and just start killing for the sake of revenge?"

The faintest smile tugged at her lips. "It's good that you feel this way," Yang wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Ruby was a lot of things. Sweet, innocent, caring. But it came at a price; she was very naive. She always wanted to save everyone." She chuckled softly. "Hell, she even managed to save Salem...from _herself. _Afterward, when some the witch's more...fanatical followers started taking out their anger on innocent people, Ruby had to learn a hard lesson. Sometimes, lives have to be taken to save others."

He never knew that. Of course, he'd suspected that his parents and their teams had had to do some questionable things, but neither had ever let on that they'd ever _killed _someone. Though, he supposed it made sense, considering that most of Salem's lackeys had been dead for two decades or more.

"So...does that mean that we're going to kill these guys?"

"If they don't give us any other option, most likely." They fell silent. It seemed as though neither cared for the idea, but were forced to accept it nonetheless.

In an attempt to bring the mood up, Yang squeezed his shoulder, causing him to wince as the muscles in his arm were crushed. "But hey, we don't have to worry about that today," she told him, pulling him to his feet. "Right now, I want to see if all my training has paid off." She playfully shoved him in the direction of the arena and stepped over to a control panel which connected to the hard light projectors. "Let's see how you handle four-on-one, shall we?"

Jasper stood the center of the ring in a readied stance. One hand over his right shoulder, gripping the handle of _Blutrache, _the other held firmly at his side, preparing to parry any oncoming attacks. He tensed as he heard the machines powering up, emitting a soft humming noise. In front, behind, and on both sides of him, blue polygonal humanoids constructed out of thin air. When they finished, he looked at Yang and nodded for her to begin the match. She echoed him and brought her finger down onto a keypad dramatically and...nothing happened.

Well, something _did _happen, just not what they were expecting. In the span of about five seconds the holograms dispersed, all the lights went out, and a loud explosion could be heard from somewhere else in the building.

"What the f-?" Jasper was cut off by yet another blast, this time a bit closer.

A few moments later, the lights came back on. He and Yang shared a worried glance, then a more serious one. "Weiss!" she exclaimed. She turned and bolted for the door. With Jasper not far behind.

As they exited into the hallway and began their mad dash to Weiss's office, he had one final troubling thought. _"Let's just hope they give us more than one option."_

* * *

**A/N: Can you say _Exposition Dump?_ In all seriousness though, this chapter was originally supposed to be much shorter, but I had no idea where to cut off so I just decided, "Screw it! Put it all in one chapter."**

**On the subject of Jaune and Ruby's deaths, there was one reviewer wondering how two fully-fledged huntsmen could get taken down by a ragtag group of thugs. I tried to touch on it in the last chapter, essentially it boils down to the fact that numbers can overwhelm. Jasper didn't see any of the assassins but it's implied that there were a lot of them in the house.**

**Also, I do want to say that if you have an idea of who is behind the attack - i.e. the one who shot Jasper - shoot me a message (Hint: It is a character from the show). I'd love to see if anyone can figure it out.**


	4. Hippity, Hoppity, Murder's On its Way

**A/N: Writer's block can go suck a fat one. Who knew that spring break was enough to completely drain the drive to write out of me? Anyway, here's another chapter of Blood Trails. Sorry for the wait.**

* * *

_"__Are the charges set?"_ the assassins' leader's voice hissed impatiently over the radio. He had to ask because he wasn't on the mission with the rest of them. Typical. He'd put so much time and planning into killing the Schnee, but he didn't have the balls to do it himself. Of course, Cotton would never voice his criticisms. He was quite partial to living, thank you very much.

_"__Aye,"_ came the response of another agent. _"Just waitin' on the bunny rabbit."_

The hare-eared faunus scowled but continued his task of snaking his way through the ventilation ducts. His natural low light vision made him the obvious choice for the task of infiltrating the mansion, much to his chagrin. Contrary to what the spy movies depicted; vents weren't exactly the easiest to crawl silently through. As such, Cotton was none too pleased when his team had begun complaining that he was taking too long.

Finally, after nearly two whole hours of slugging in the metal tubes, he reached his destination, the generator room which provided power to the whole property. Peering through the vent grating, he determined that there was no one around to catch him. Not that he couldn't take care of them, he had just been instructed to minimize casualties to non-target individuals; and he'd be damned if he was going to risk upsetting the boss man.

Speak of the devil. Cotton was ripped from the confines of his own mind by the man in question addressing him directly. _"Cotton? What's taking so long?"_

"Believe it or not," he whispered into his earpiece. "I'm not Spruce Willis, and it's a little difficult to crawl through a vent without it sounding like there's a rave with tribal drums in here."

_"__I'm a tad deaf in this ear. You wanna repeat that?"_

He groaned as he kicked the vent cover out. "In position," he switched off the mic. "Dick." With one final grunt, he clambered to his feet. He was only twenty-six, and yet, he thought, he was already getting too old for this kind of thing.

He didn't bother to turn the lights on - not wanting to risk drawing any unwanted attention - he could see just fine without them. Another quick scan of the room revealed his target: an unassuming metal box, about the size of a billiards table with a simple computer console in the center. It hummed with the consistent purr of electricity. After pressing a few buttons, the screen came to life, confirming that this _was _indeed the machine he was looking for: the one that provided power to the house - _and_ security systems. Sure, they could do the hit without taking them down, it was merely a matter of convenience. No need to bring an army of robot soldiers down on them if it could be avoided.

Reaching around into his equipment pack, Cotton retrieved a small, walkie-talkie-looking device and placed it on the console. The magnets in the casing caused it to snap to the metal box with an echoed _ka-chunk_. He wasn't entirely wise to the science behind the gadget, such knowledge was beyond his paygrade, but he did know that it was meant to overload the generator, taking it offline for a few seconds. Such an occurrence would, hopefully, force the security alarms and mechs to reset. Cotton was unsure, however. Because, while it had been tested, it had never been used on anything _this _big.

"Here's hoping…" he whispered, taking a deep breath. "Alright everybody, hold on to your butts. Power is going down…" Pause for dramatic effect. "NOW!"

There was no electricity arc or flash of light like he'd anticipated. With the flip of a switch, the generator simply shut down for all of five seconds.

But it was long enough.

Off in the distance, even though a hundred feet of concrete, wood, and marble stood in between, Cotton heard the first breaching charge detonate.

_"__We're movin' in to take out Schnee," _his teammate sounded way too excited about going up against a fully trained huntress, on her home turf no less. Tack on Xiao Long and the new kid, and they definitely had their hands full. _"You'd better get on up here, bunny-boy. You don't wanna miss all the fun, do ya?"_

With a heavy sigh, Cotton replied, "On the way…Again, dick." He made certain to take his finger off the 'Talk' button before uttering the latter half of his response.

As it was an expensive piece of hardware, he made sure to grab the disruptor as he turned to exit the room. The generator whirred back to life when it was removed from its surface. No matter, the power coming back on meant little in the grand scheme of things. In fact, it was a bit more convenient for the assassins, as not all were faunus and, as such, were unable to fight well in the dark. Another explosion sounded in the distance. So much for subtlety.

The door to the generator room slammed open and he began sprinting along the pre-planned route to the target's office. Weiss Schnee was many things; a shrewd businesswoman, one of the wealthiest people on the planet, but most importantly, she was a creature of habit. A fact which made planning her assassination all the simpler. Every morning, from seven until nine, she spent in her office, doing whatever it is she does for the S.D.C.

"Who's there?" the voice of the butler echoed as Cotton rounded a corner. Without losing any momentum, the faunus leaped up and ran along the wall, passing over the confused servant entirely.

_"__Schnee needs better help,"_ Cotton thought with a smirk as he returned to the ground. _"Guy didn't even try to stop me."_

He continued his dash through the halls until he finally reached the corridor where his destination was located. Now it was just a matter of remembering which of the many doors was the correct one. Of course, he didn't have to wonder long. At the other end of the hallway, two figures came bursting out of nowhere. They were too far away for him to see their faces, but the impractically long blonde hair and the blood red cape told him that it was most likely Yang Xiao Long and the cyclops.

The dynamic duo began running towards him at full speed. He was shrouded in darkness, so it was improbable that they'd seen him. More likely, they were headed to the same place he was.

Not good.

They had prepared to deal with these two, but huntsmen were more dangerous in numbers. There wasn't any time to warn his team. Cotton once again resumed his gait, this time with the intent of stopping or, at the very least, delaying Schnee's reinforcements until she was dealt with.

He met them in front of the office door, the sounds of fierce combat already emanating from inside. Brown eyes narrowed as they flicked between lilac and silver. None of them dared move, for fear of provoking the inevitable confrontation. The whole scene was straight out of an old cowboy movie; Cotton half expected a tumbleweed to come rolling out of nowhere.

"_Enabler Jr._ Then you keep him busy, I've got to help Weiss," Yang muttered to her partner, due to his enhanced hearing, Cotton was able to pick it up. Although, he suspected he was meant to.

_Enabler Jr.? _Some form of combo attack, most likely. She was planning to slip by him and let her younger half distract him. Cotton smirked, and the red-cloaked swordsman did the same; he wasn't about to get cocky, but he felt confident that he could probably handle the boy. Leaving him behind would normally have been a decent tactic if a bit obvious. But Cotton had killed many a young hunter who'd had the same idea, this shouldn't be any different.

* * *

Jasper subtly tensed and readied himself to launch into combat, his fingers finding their familiar homes around _Blutrache_'s hilt. As he did, the black-hooded killer kept his gaze trained on his eye. Yang's hushed order wasn't anything the average person would understand, as it was a technique that they had developed together in secret. Naming the combos was easier than calling out exactly what to do every single time they used them; it also kept their opponents guessing as to what they were about to do.

Jasper tried to get a feel for the man he was about to be fighting for dear life based on his appearance. Whoever was gunning for Weiss, they certainly knew what their favorite color was: black. The faunus was garbed in a black jacket, pants, gloves, and boots. His face, while partially obscured by his hood, sported a long, terrible scar that ran from his left brow to the right side of his chin. To top it all off, white rabbit ears protruded out of the hood from little, custom holes. Jasper had a feeling that was she in a better mood, Yang would have commented, saying they were cute. Overall, only one thing could be said for certain; he was dangerous.

Only once did Jasper break the silent staring match to glance at Yang, only to find that she was stood in his rather substantial blind-spot. Damn his eye - or lack thereof -, he would just have to try and predict where she would be. Which shouldn't be too terribly difficult, as they'd practiced and perfected this move for years.

The assassin must have noticed his agitation, for he tensed as well, bending his knees and positioning his hands so that he could draw whatever weapons he was carrying. Frustratingly, his dress made it impossible to tell what those were, or how many he had on him.

The three of them stood there for what seemed like an eternity. The stillness before battle stoking an almost unbearable mix of nervousness and anticipation within Jasper. There was also a hint of confusion. Yang never held back this long – or at all – before charging into a fight. Did she actually consider this guy to be a threat? No, that wasn't it. If it were, she wouldn't be simply leaving Jasper at his mercy. More likely, she was trying to instill a sense of unease in him; to psych him out.

If that was her intent, it didn't appear to be working. The faunus held his ground and showed no sign of intimidation. A fact which only made Jasper all the more wary of his soon to be duel partner.

Yang, probably noticing her fear tactic proved ineffective, finally decided to break the standoff. With a speedy tap on the shoulder, she signaled to Jasper it was time to act, and the two sprinted toward the assassin.

Their paths diverged slightly midway through the charge, with Jasper swinging to the right and Yang hanging left. Their opponent, however, did not move. Instead, he steadied himself and prepared to dodge an attack from both sides at the last second. He didn't even look at either of them, maintaining a fifty-yard stare straight ahead. Jasper had heard of such a move; where faunus with improved hearing would often rely on their ears over eyes in combat. Indeed, the snowy appendages were twitching and flitting every-which-way.

A split second before reaching him, Yang reared back to throw a punch, which naturally forced him to either evade or attempt to counter the brutal brawler. How confusing it must have been for him when the blow completely missed - no, _ignored _him. How much more so when the arm turned out to no longer be attached to its owner?

And was shooting through the air like a rocket.

Jasper sorely wished he could have seen the guy's face. However, he was unable to as he grabbed the flying extremity and held on while it jerked him up toward the ceiling.

_Blutrache _shrieked as it was ripped from its sheath. The crimson blade cutting through the air on its way over Jasper's shoulder. Letting go of the bionic hand, his assent rapidly morphed into a downward slash at the faunus's head. As expected, his attention shifted away from Yang as he redirected the aerial assault with a dagger at the last possible moment. Jasper fell forward, rolling into a crouch with his sword pointed at his foe.

The distraction allowed Yang to catch and reattach her arm. With a quick nod and a wink, as though to say, _"_good luck_,"_ she burst through the office door and out of sight to aid Weiss against the other assassins.

The two of them now alone in the hallway, Jasper and the assassin began pacing in a wide circle. Whilst their eyes remained locked, subtle changes in their stance and body language hinted at the on-going struggle to outmaneuver each other before their fight could truly begin. When one would twitch his hand, the other would bend his knees, expecting a blade to come whistling through the air.

Jasper flinched and pulled _Blutrache _close as the faunus raised a hand to the side of his head. "Cotton here," he said. Ah, so he was radioing his companions. Some huntsmen would have taken the man's momentary distraction as a chance to land a free hit, however, Jasper thought better of it and took it as an opportunity to gain information about their quarry. Whatever little bit he could glean, that is. "Yeah, I'm dealing with one of our _other _problems. Shouldn't take too long."

"Cotton, is it? Why don't we save us both a lot of time and you go ahead and tell me who's on the other end of that call, hmm?" Jasper suggested with incredibly exaggerated confidence.

The bunny-eared murderer chuckled. "Kid, you are _way _out of your depth here," he boasted, drawing yet another knife from inside his coat, this one a bit longer than the other. "I got a better idea; you just roll over and die, so my boss doesn't get pissed at me for wasting time with you."

"Your boss sounds like a harda-" Jasper was interrupted when Cotton sprang forward, stabbing at his face. Bringing up his blade, he was only just able to block the dagger before losing his other eye.

"You talk too much."

While it was difficult to intercept, Jasper was prepared for the lightning fast follow-up attack; coming in the form of the second knife being jabbed toward his stomach. In one fluid motion, he caught the blade on _Valorschutz_, deflecting it and drove his fist up into Cotton's chin. The sudden blow caused the man to recoil sharply, forcing them apart once more, the distance between them compounded as they both took several steps back.

Jasper shifted his hand, adjusting his grip on _Blutrache_'s hilt to a more comfortable position. For a moment, he considered activating the weapon's mecha-shift and using the second blade. However, the thought was discouraged when he recalled one of Yang's first lessons; _"Never show off all your tricks at the start of the fight. A smart huntsman always has an ace in the hole."_ He didn't get any more time to ponder on the matter, as Cotton charged him again, this time aiming to slash at him from both sides at once.

His speed was nothing short of dizzying. The way he shot from his spot ten feet away to right up in Jasper's face would have been impressive back at Beacon. Although, it lost some of its charm when it was being used in an attempt to slit his throat. Between dodging and blocking the onslaught of pointy things and constantly making sure not to back into a corner, Jasper had no time to get a hit in edgewise. Every now and again, he would wince as he felt the sting of his aura shielding his skin from an errant strike that made it past his admittedly poor defense. The natural barrier did indeed protect his body from harm, but that didn't mean the pain wasn't there.

His situation was getting poorer by the second. While each individual pin-prick did little on its own, death by a thousand cuts was still death nonetheless. Jasper needed to break his opponent's rhythm and start fighting back or else the battle for Schnee hallway would be over before too long.

In a desperate attempt to interrupt the flurry of daggers, he thrust _Blutrache_ forward, the ruby edge barely glancing off Cotton's cheek thanks to his aura, tearing his hood off. The faunus responded with a rapid stab to his right shoulder, the blow producing the same result. Ignoring the sharp pain, Jasper spun to the left and caught Cotton in the temple with his elbow without missing a beat, stunning and throwing him off balance. Which, in turn, created an opening for two follow-up slashes across his chest.

When he pulled the weapon back, Jasper noted the fact that there were a few smears of crimson spattered across the edge. The sudden blow to his head must have caused Cotton's aura to focus primarily on the impact zone in order to keep him from being knocked unconscious. As such, the rest of his body was temporarily unguarded, allowing for the cuts to actually take effect.

"Argh!" he hissed, dropping a knife and clutching his left hand to the crisscrossed wound. "Dammit." Much to Jasper's surprise, the faunus took a knee, coughing exaggeratedly as he did. It had to be some kind of trick, someone like him wouldn't have gone down with a single strike. A person's aura strengthened with age and experience, and Cotton had to be a good eight years older than him, at least.

Cautiously, Jasper advanced up to the kneeling assassin, raising his katana so that it tickled his throat. He kept his eye firmly locked on Cotton's as he seemed to relax, apparently conceding the fight. Maybe he really _was _weaker than anticipated; the weakling among his peers and the threats earlier had been nothing more than hot air?

"You gonna spill your guts now?" Jasper interrogated, all humor drained from his voice. "Or do I have to do it for you?"

Cotton snorted, an evil smirk tugging at his lips. "That's funny, d'ya get that from a Spruce Willis movie?" A small click sounded from below. "'Cause that's where I got this one." Jasper glanced down just in time to see a ring pulled free from a metal cylinder.

And for the world to disappear into nothing but white light and deafening silence.

* * *

If there were words to accurately sum up the pain that Cotton felt in his ears when the flashbang exploded, they were unknown to him. Sound and light-based weapons were always risky for faunus to use, on account of their low-light vision and enhanced hearing if they had certain animal traits. The visual damage he sustained was minimal, as he had recently purchased a set of special contact lenses on the black market. Made for Atlas soldiers, they were supposed to negate the effects of flashbangs. Thank god they worked for the most part.

His opponent didn't appear to be as lucky, though. Frantically flailing his sword every which way, he was as blind as a bat, clutching his free hand to his face. If he was yelling or had screamed at the sudden loss of spatial awareness, it was unclear due to the great pain and ringing in both their ears. Ignoring the excruciating agony in his head, Cotton waited for the blade to be out of the way. He got his chance when the kid made an outward swing, leaving himself open to be tackled to the ground. In order to prevent any further retaliatory slashes, he positioned himself atop the young man with one knee on each of his arms, holding them in place. The position was one that could easily be mistaken for something very different than a life or death duel. And Cotton had a feeling that if his team ever saw him and the kid like this, he'd never hear the end of it. As uncomfortable as it was, however, it was worth it to keep that stupid sword from slicing him to ribbons.

Not a moment too soon either, as the caped swordsman's eye began to open, indicating that the grenade was wearing off. His already erratic struggling only increased in tempo and desperation when he saw that Cotton held his dagger up, preparing to plunge it into his neck. Aura could stop a lot, but from such a close range, it would do little more than slow the kill and prolong the victim's suffering.

Cotton grunted with annoyance as he felt a knee drive into his backside, pushing him forward slightly and causing the blade to veer off course and stick into the hardwood floor not an inch from its target. The shift in his weight, unfortunately, gave the kid an opportunity to free his left arm and grapple with Cotton for control of the knife. At least his katana with still safely lodged underneath his leg, thank god for small mercies.

The effects of the flashbang finally started to fade away from both their ears - mostly, there was still the frustratingly irritating ringing. Sounds began to come in a bit clearer; the two men's sharp breaths hissing through gritted teeth, the constant _thud _of the boy's boots against the floor as he struggled to find some source of leverage, even the muffled racket of the fierce four-on-two battle happening on the other side of the wall.

Assuming his opponent could hear him, Cotton seethed, "Just...die already. I'm trying to make this as...painless as possible."

He could hear him. "I'm not."

Cotton didn't have time to question what he meant by that before something ripped into the back of his left knee. Immediately, he lost all composure and fell forward, his entire body giving out as the hidden second blade of that freaking sword severed muscles and ligaments. His pained yell hadn't even escaped his lips when the dagger they'd been fighting over was wrenched from his grasp and plunged into his shoulder.

How quickly the tables had turned. One moment he was poised for victory, the next his foe was rolling out of beneath him and pinning him face-down to the floor. The silver-eyed man had abandoned his precious sword in favor of a much more effective weapon: Cotton's hypersensitive ears.

The faunus's eye went wide when he felt calloused hands grip the appendages. Fear and hatred flooded his mind as they were squeezed and crushed, bringing back memories of a horrid childhood. The pain was enough to bring him, a seasoned and cold-hearted assassin, to tears.

"Now, here's what's going to happen," his good-as-owner hissed, making good on his threat by clenching his fist a bit harder. "You are going to answer every question I ask, or I will rip these things off. Capiche?"

Cotton couldn't nod for fear of putting any more strain on his ears, so he settled for a terrified, "Uh-huh."

"Good." The venom that oozed from the voice contained a hint of something else. Just the _slightest_ twinge. It dawned on Cotton that his captor was enjoying this about as much as he was. Deep down, he was probably a good person, but current circumstances proved that he wasn't afraid to commit the moral taboo of torture to get what he wanted. A fact which shed light on yet another possibility; that he had a personal stake in being here. That protecting Schnee was more than just a job for him. "Who were you talking to on the radio earlier?"

Cotton gulped. His mouth was dry and his breathing was rapid and labored. "M-my team," he stammered, praying to whatever gods would listen that his answer was satisfactory.

"Why are you trying to kill Weiss?" It was.

"It's just a jo-AHHAAHHH!" Crippling pain shot through his head and down to his toes. Unfortunately, that answer wasn't.

"What kind of job?" His breath was hot on Cotton's neck as he growled. "Are you being paid, or is it personal?"

Tears flowed down his face and pooled near his right eye, forcing him to close it. "_We _get paid...the team. I don't know where the contracts come from. Only the boss knows. But with the way he's obsessing over this, I'd say he has some kind of grudge against Schnee, Xiao Long, and Belladonna."

The mere mention of the other names caused the torturer to pause, loosening his grip ever so slightly. However, the hesitation lasted for barely a second, then it was back to the business at hand.

"Who is it? Who is your boss and why is he after them?"

"I don't know." He really didn't. The man leading their little band was shrouded in mystery. No real name, no past, personal ties to speak of. He was a ghost. Although, Cotton got the sense the response wasn't enough. "I don't know his name, just that he goes by 'Courier.'"

"Is he here?"

"No. He's not even in Atlas."

"Where is he?" Was it worth the risk? If he gave Courier up to save his own skin, assuming he'd survive this, who's to say that the man wouldn't find out and come for him?

"I-," he was cut off by a sudden tug. The boy had graduated from simply crushing the life out of his tender ears to slowly pulling on _and _crushing them.

"Where. Is. He?" The malicious emphasis placed on each word made it abundantly clear that the answer to this question, in particular, would seal his fate. One way, or another.

Screw it. Right now, he was more afraid of this _teenager_ than he was of Courier; the man who had killed Jaune and Ruby Arc, two of Remnant's strongest hunters. "H-he's on his way to Menagerie. He may even be there already. We have a safehouse there. He doesn't tell us anything about what he's doing. Info's on a 'need to know' basis, and all we _need to know _is that we're supposed to head there when we finish with Schnee."

They sat in silence for several moments, making Cotton think that his enemy had run out of questions. Or maybe he was just pondering the things he'd learned. He considered attempting to escape, make a run for it. He couldn't go back to his team, not after he'd talked. He would just have to his own way out of Atlas. His shoulders tensed, not only drawing the kid's attention but also sending spears of electrifying pain through his chest and arm from the knife that was still lodged in him.

Then there was the matter of his leg. The crimson blade had made it through his aura and sliced through the tendons in the back of his knee. Wouldn't be walking, let alone running, anytime soon - if ever. Any and all plans of flight were abandoned. The only thing he could do was hope his captor saw fit to keep him alive.

A sudden squeeze to his ears - harder than all the others, told him of another question before it was even asked. "Six years ago, you people attacked a family of three living out in the woods on Patch. Do you remember?" His voice was calm, too calm, _dangerous_ calm. For him to be inquiring about such a specific event, there was definitely some personal tie he had to it. Maybe he knew the family that lived there?

"N-no. We did a lot of hits like that, but none on Patch, at least not while I've been on the team. What about it?"

"Let me clear a few things up," there was a hint of anger rising in his tone. "My name is Jasper _Arc_, and the attack I'm talking about killed my parents."

Cotton's eyes went wide. So there _was _another reason he was here. Revenge, plain and simple. It shouldn't have been so surprising, they had killed a lot of peoples' parents over the years all across Remnant. What shocked him was the fact that the Arcs only had one child, and he supposedly died along with them. Took a bullet to the head, if he remembered correctly. For someone who was most likely that same kid to not only be here now but to remember everything...

The boss needed better aim - that shot had left his brain remarkably intact.

"What do you know about that night?" Jasper held his cool and collected facade, but just barely. As Cotton glanced up, he saw nothing but pain and rage behind the boy's silver eye.

"Not a lot," he cautiously admitted. "It was before I joined up. Supposedly the first real job that Courier didn't do solo."

"Why did he want us dead in the first place?"

"I don't know. Like I said, he doesn't talk about himself. All I can say is that the kid - _you_, I guess - weren't a target. You were supposed to survive the attack."

Jasper's gaze hardened. "Why?"

"Courier's got some kind of vendetta against the old members of Team RWBY," Cotton explained through shallow, rapid breaths. The pain in his head wasn't subsiding, despite all his best efforts to block it out. "He wants _them_ in the ground, but their families need to be kept alive. Some kind of sick torture, I don't know."

The muffled noises of combat from the other side of the wall were lessening. Either Weiss and Yang were dead, or they had succeeded in driving the others off. Jasper seemed to notice it too, as he unexpectedly let go of one of Cotton's ears in favor of retrieving his damnable weapon. The smaller, hidden blade that had helped put them in this situation retracted back into the hilt, shifting the sword back into its - still very deadly - original form.

Cotton cried out in equal parts surprise and distress as he was yanked up to his knees solely by the one ear still in Jasper's grip. "T-that's all I know, I swear on my mother's grave," he pleaded, fearful that the boy was preparing to cut his throat.

"I very much doubt that," came his curt response. The sentence was punctuated all the more by the sudden, sharp blow to Cotton's temple and the even more sudden loss of consciousness.

* * *

The hurricane of emotions tearing through Jasper's head was almost unbearable. Rage, grief, shock, and disbelief, to name a few, flooded his thoughts. He had just done the unthinkable: he had resorted to torturing an unarmed prisoner for information. It went against everything that he was taught by his parents, Yang, even Beacon - the place where they trained children to be killers - would have seen him locked away for even considering the perverse act. Yang had told him that before all was said and done that they might have to take a few lives. But there was a marked difference between striking someone down in self-defense and inflicting suffering as a means to an end.

Jasper's eye drifted over the lifeless-looking body of Cotton. The wounds on his chest and leg soaking his clothing and the floor around him in blood. His face was mangled into an expression of unconscious agony. Jasper wanted to puke. _He _did that to another person. Treated him just like - no, _worse_ than - an animal. Not even the Grimm were shown this kind of torment. Yang would be sick. Hell, _he_ felt sick. The screams that had come out of the faunus's mouth as he threatened to rip his ears off still echoed in his mind, filling his thoughts.

In his hand, _Blutrache_ quivered, threatening to jump out of his grasp. Nearly invisible against the red metal, warm, freshly-spilled blood dripped from the blade onto his fist.

"What is wrong with me?" he asked the empty air around him, voice shaky and weak.

_"Nothing,"_ came the incredibly unexpected response.

There was no one around. That much was for sure after the fastest three-hundred-sixty-degree spin Jasper had ever done. The only people in the hallway were him and Cotton. "Who's there?"

_"End him,"_ the voice was thundering yet silent...and coming from inside his head. _"He's outlived his usefulness. Kill him."_

An urge swelled up within him, the voice's words compelling him to tighten his grip on his weapon. It would be so easy. Just one simple thrust and the scum would be snuffed out. No one would fault Jasper, he could easily pass the deed off as an unfortunate turn of events in the heat of combat. And it would even the numbers a bit more, cutting down on the other killers' forces. There were no downsides...

Before Jasper even realized he had moved, _Blutrache'_s tip was tracing a path down Cotton's chin to his throat.

_"It would be easy..." _the sinister voice repeated. _"He's one of _them_ they all need to die. You want this."_

He wanted to scream but he had no control over himself. He tried to throw his sword away but whatever trance had come over him wouldn't allow it. Jasper watched helplessly from inside his own mind as he raised his arm up high, preparing to dramatically stab it into the defenseless faunus. The world around him slowly melted away until he and his prey were all that remained.

Time seemed to stop. The power and sense of superiority he felt from literally controlling this man's life was exhilarating. The rush he got as the blade fell was almost euphoric. It was better than any drug or drink. Pure bloodlust.

_"This is how it should be," _his inner puppet-master might have been smiling at the scene had it been real.

How quickly that smile would have faded when Jasper was thrown to the ground, tackled by some previously unseen force.

All of a sudden he was back in control, his surroundings were clear, and the voice was gone. He looked up at his attacker, ready to strike if need be, only to find that it was Yang, thank god. With her and Weiss's fight done with, she must have come out into the hallway to see him looming over the helpless Cotton with his blade poised to execute him. It was only reasonable to assume she'd felt that a live prisoner was more useful than a dead opponent. That, or she simply refused to let her nephew cross that line and get any more blood on his hands than there already was.

Whatever the case Jasper was thankful she'd been there to stop him.

"Jasper!" her tone was thick with shock and worry. "Don't! He's down for the count already."

He didn't say anything in reply. What _could _he say to make what he'd almost done seem any better? It was exactly what it looked like; he had been about to willingly commit cold-blooded murder.

Jasper glanced over to Cotton, who was still out cold but now being looked over by Weiss. The woman had singe marks on her clothing and a nasty gash across her stomach, but other than that, she appeared fine. Then they hadn't been too late, and his efforts in stopping the other assassins from getting reinforced by the faunus compatriot hadn't been in vain. Yang, too, looked no worse for wear. Her workout outfit was drenched in sweat but no hint of blood was visible.

Through a mix of relief and the adrenaline wearing off, Jasper's entire body relaxed. But not in a good, satisfying way. All the anger that had fueled him during the fight vanished and gave way to a surge of regret and self-loathing. His fingers finally unclenched from _Blutrache _and the bloodied blade clinked to the floor. His breaths became long and shaky, and a foul taste reached his mouth.

As Yang loosened her hold on him and helped him sit up, the dam on his emotions broke and tears welled in his eye. With one hand holding him upright Yang used the other to gently pull him into a supportive hug.

"It's okay, kid," she comforted, pressing his head against her shoulder. "It's over."

"I...I almost..." Jasper shuddered. "I was about to ki-"

"But you didn't," her interruption was sharp yet soft, as though she was scolding the actions of a child. Which, in a way, she was. "So don't even think about that right now. You're alive and unhurt, that's all that matters."

He wanted to argue, to tell her that it _did_ matter, but for some reason, he couldn't find the energy in himself to do so. Any drive to speak, move, or even think was sapped out and all he could do was simply remain still and silent while Yang did her best to console him. She didn't speak, for what else could she tell him? Following his example, she was content to keep quiet. Weiss, on the other hand, left them alone for a few minutes, disappearing into her no-doubt demolished office.

Jasper might as well have dissolved into Yang's embrace. The warmth of her skin, the surprisingly steady beat of her heart, and the gentle rocking back and forth as she held him soothed his shot nerves and brought some semblance of tranquillity and comfort back to him. The subtle movements and small actions reminded him of his mother, and the similar way she would calm him as a child. Come to think of it, it wasn't the first time Yang had used such a method. For the first few months of his living with her, Jasper would often be plagued by nightmares and would awake, crying and sweating enough to drown in his bed. It didn't matter how late it was, she would be there to wrap him in her strong arms and would hold him until he drifted off.

The fond memories set his mind at ease and helped take his focus off his recent abhorrent actions. It seemed as though sunlight incarnate struck again and at the very least gave him the strength to return the loving hug - albeit, weakly. A small sign for Yang to see that she was helping him. It seemed to be enough for her, however, as she released a long breath she'd apparently been holding.

Weiss returned promptly, holding a scroll in one hand and a suspicious pair of handcuffs in the other. With a quick wave of her hand, she beckoned Yang to come over.

Nodding to her teammate, the blonde gently slid Jasper across to floor and leaned him up against the wall. He didn't fight it or complain about her leaving, all the same, she touched his shoulder briefly before standing up. "Be right back, kiddo. I gotta check up on the Ice Queen."

He hummed quietly and let his head fall back against the wall. Yang and Weiss talked in quick, hushed tones, perhaps so that Cotton couldn't hear, had he been he listening in, and merely faking being unconscious. However, he doubted it. Amid the sharp whispers, Jasper was able to pick out a few phrases that Weiss uttered a bit too loudly. "Winter..._this_ reprobate," she not-so-gently nudged the sleeping faunus's side with her foot. Carefully glancing over at Jasper, still sat limply against the wall, she continued. "...professional...talk to Jasper..."

Yang's response to the last few bits of conversation was rather negative and abrupt, violently shaking her head and muttering something along the lines of, "I'll talk to him." Weiss, clearly not wishing to get into an argument over it, shrugged and raised her hands in a way that conveyed her concession on the matter. With a curt nod, Yang accepted the victory and gestured to Cotton. "I have a feeling I know what the cuffs are for," she said, the private chapter of their talk apparently over with. "But I'm a little curious as to _why _you own them in the first place, and why they were in your office?"

Jasper hadn't thought possible, but Weiss actually blushed at the inquiry - only for a split second, and she made certain to turn and kneel down to latch the metal rings on the assassin to hide it, but it was there. "I simply like to be prepared. That is all," the white-haired huntress stated with paper-thin confidence.

Seeing straight through the obvious lie, Yang deadpanned, "Uh-huh...So is it you or Neptune that's the big spoon in that instance?"

"Th-that is neither your business nor your concern," the embarrassed woman flustered, crossing her arms and huffing like a little girl. "Uncouth, nosy, she-pig."

Yang tutted and let out a small chuckle. "Name-calling is childish and petty...billboard."

The hypocrisy in her rebuttal was not lost on either of them. "And retaliation doubly so."

The two women's jabs at each other allowed some small amount of levity to return and break up the dire tension that had been smothering the three of them. What must have been a coping mechanism for them was merely entertaining to him. Seeing two old friends jokingly go at each other like this...it brought with it a weak smile, tugging at Jasper's lips. And, while it didn't make him feel any better about what he'd done, it at least helped to take his mind off it ever so briefly.

After enjoying the spectacle of what was essentially a middle-aged - although, he would never be caught dead referring to either of them as "middle-aged" - cat-fight for a few more minutes, he finally managed to muster up the strength to stand up. His legs were shaking as though he'd never used them before, and he nearly lost his balance on the way up, but he eventually made it, which felt like an accomplishment in and of itself. Yang and Weiss's backs were turned to him, so they both comically flinched at once when he staggered up behind them.

The reactions made him snort with amusement. "Sorry," he chuckled. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, I don't know about you two," Yang declared, twisting her head side to side to remove a kink from her neck. "But between an entire morning of training and getting ambushed by cold-blooded assassins, I've worked up an appetite and enough sweat to drown half of Vacuo. I think the forecast calls for a high chance of hot showers and waffles in the near future."

Up until then, Jasper had thought that only Yang Xiao Long could have such casual thoughts regarding life or death combat and what to do afterward. However, Weiss's reply made him rethink that idea. "For once we are in agreement," opening up her scroll once again, she tapped a few icons and began a call on speaker.

"He-hello?" Garnet sounded absolutely terrified. No doubt she'd heard the explosions and take cover somewhere.

"Yes, Garnet, would you please prepare a rather substantial breakfast for the guests and me?"

"Uh-um...Of course, Miss Schnee. But if you don't mind me asking, is everything alright?" the young faunus's fear was hinted with confusion at Weiss's suspiciously normal demeanor.

"Not to worry, it's been taken care of and the authorities are on their way. But for now, we are all famished, so if you would be quick about breakfast?"

Garnet's hesitation to reply made it abundantly clear she was still somewhat skeptical, but she agreed nonetheless. "Right...Um...Just give me a few minutes and come down when you're ready."

Weiss nodded with a smile that was far too calm for the whole debacle that occurred not three minutes prior. "Thank you."

With little else being said between the three of them, she and Yang began walking in the direction of the house's main dining hall. Along the way, Yang made certain to grab Cotton and heft him onto her shoulder by his belt. She and her white-haired comrade jesting back and forth like nothing had happened.

The dramatic turnaround that the whole scene had taken left Jasper stunned. He realized that the profession changed a person, but were all huntsmen and huntresses so crazy? It made him question whether he was going to end up like that and if he was already started to head down that path to mental instability. Just what was that voice in his head, and how did it take control of him?

And would it do so again, if given the chance?

* * *

**A/N: So Jasper's feelin' a little _Psychosocial!_ Sorry, been listening to a lot of Slipknot lately. Anywho, so we got our first real fight scene, hope you liked it, however short it was. **

**A few more hints dropped about our mysterious adversary, can any of you guess who he is? Seriously, I'm actually curious as to how many people can figure it out. If you know anything about the story the character is based upon, his name should be a pretty decent clue.**

**Originally I intended to have the whole thing from Jasper's POV, but I decided that there would be a bit more weight added to Cotton's situation and character if I wrote from his perspective. Also, when I first started writing this chapter, I was planning on having him commit suicide to avoid talking, but feel like this works a lot better.**


	5. Shock and Awe

**A/N: Since POV swaps are going to become more frequent from here on out, I figured it would be best to set in place a system to differentiate between time-skips and perspective changes.**

**From now on, time skips will be represented by the standard horizontal line:**

* * *

**POV changes will be shown using this symbol:**

/-/

**Also, bear in mind that time-skips and POV swaps might also happen together. In which case, just a horizontal line will be used.**

**With that being said, I hope you enjoy this next chapter of Blood Trails.**

* * *

Given the dramatic, life-threatening ordeal that the three of them had just gone through not an hour ago, Yang figured that she really ought not to be as calm as she was. Perhaps it was the frigid morning air of Atlas contrasted by the plateful of waffles doused in warmed syrup and coffee that soothed her nerves. Or the wave of relief that overcame her after the adrenaline high wore off.

Or maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the twenty or so highly-trained, heavily armed Atlas Specialists that bustled in and out of Schnee Manor. One didn't get into their little club without being the best of the best; having so many of them in one almost guaranteed complete safety for herself, Weiss, and Jasper. Currently, they were busying themselves sweeping the grounds for any signs of the escaped assassins and investigating the house. It was still a mystery as to how the attackers managed to infiltrate and exfiltrate without setting off any kind of alarm or security system. As such, the Specialists were combing the entire property to find out.

She, Jasper, and Weiss had already been grilled for their statements. Alongside the staff that was on the grounds, they were also made to sign nondisclosure agreements so that they couldn't breathe a word of what had transpired to anyone, not even other forms of law enforcement.

That bit had initially struck Yang as odd. Why wouldn't they involve the police? But then she realized that this was the Atlas military. They never let anything that would cause any sort of panic to get out if they could prevent it. A second attempt made on the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company's life, in her own home no less? Why that just had 'news flash' and 'chaos' written all over it in big, bold, lettering. In fact, it's likely that this event would be kept off the books entirely, considering it was Weiss's sister, Winter - who had complete control over what did and didn't get logged in official records - that was in charge of the Specialists.

Now that she gave it some thought, Yang came to the conclusion that it wasn't the Specialists' presence that made her feel at ease, but Winter's. When that woman wanted to get something done, she damn well did it herself and did it right. The second they arrived, the captured assassin, once more wide awake and scared out of his mind, was properly restrained and loaded on to the bullhead for questioning.

Which was convenient, considering as soon as he awoke from his blunt-force-trauma-induced nap, the guy had snapped right out of Weiss's toy handcuffs. Since the Ice Queen had basically outright said what the things were used for, Yang was not too surprised or alarmed when he had, either. However, any kind of teasing she might have done was put on hold when she took in the sight of the man as he tried to escape her fireman's carry.

Firstly, he didn't get far due to a terrible cut on the back of his leg. Apparently, Jasper had sliced through the backside of his knee during their duel. Gruesome and unfortunate as it was for her nephew to be forced to take such an action, she couldn't fault him for his ability to end a fight. His hands were also injured; blood and puss oozed out of disgusting blisters, and small pieces of shrapnel were lodged in his palms. She later found out via Jasper's statement that Cotton - his name was - had pulled out a flash grenade and let it go off in his hands. Most of the damage had been absorbed by his aura, preventing him from losing his hands, but leaving him with severe burns.

Fine, she thought, but that didn't explain why the faunus was so terrified at the mere sight of Jasper. Enough to try and pitifully scrape his way across the ground to get away from him. The look in his eyes had told a story of pure horror, and all of it centered around the Arc.

Come to think of it, Jasper didn't seem to be the same either. When she'd left to go aid Weiss, he'd had full confidence in himself. Now, however, there was a strange look about him. He held a calm face, but his posture and the way he tensed whenever someone, herself included, approached; it was as though he was expecting another attack and didn't trust anyone at all.

Understandable, given that this had been his first real fight for his life. Sure, he and Yang had trained and sparred for years, but neither of them ever came away with anything more severe than a few bruises. Never in his nineteen years on Remnant had he faced an opponent whose blows were meant to draw blood.

Yang could barely recall her first time with the experience. Two and a half decades ago, a shady nightclub affectionately dubbed "The Club" by its owner. She'd come in looking for information on her mother and had been met with swords and submachine guns trained on her. The looks on the thugs' faces were priceless, and she wished she'd thought to take pictures with her scroll. She would've had them framed and hung them up in the Team RWBY dorm room in place of her "Achieve Men" poster. No matter what Weiss would have said, her taste in art was anything but shallow, the Ice Queen just didn't have the refined eye that it took to be able to appreciate the sacred practices of blackmail and puns.

Yang's own experience with life or death combat notwithstanding, Jasper didn't seem to be taking it very well. Of course, that might have had something to do with his nearly killing an opponent he'd already taken down. She had told him before that they were most likely going to have to kill a few of the assassins before the whole mission was over, what he almost did wasn't self-defense. Not when the killer couldn't even fight back.

It would have been murder.

That was not a line she was willing to allow him to cross. Luckily, she and Weiss had thought to check on him after they drove off the larger group of attackers. She had opened the door just in time to see him standing over the unconscious faunus, raising his sword up in preparation to end him. The whole scene was like something out of a horror movie; the blood that dripped from Blutrache's blade, Cotton helplessly laying on the floor, and the dead, emotionless expression on Jasper's face. There was something very wrong with him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was there. The hopeless confusion and shame in his eye after she stopped him from going through with taking the faunus's life proved it. She made it a point to confront him about it.

Although, for now, it would have to wait a while, as Yang was pulled back into the real world by a stern, yet caring voice addressing her. Suddenly made aware of the woman that had approached her, she looked up from her now cold breakfast. "Huh?"

With a sigh that spoke not of displeasure, but mild annoyance at having to repeat herself, Winter Schnee replied, "Since you clearly were not paying attention the first time," she cleared her throat and extended a hand to her. "Thank you, Miss Xiao Long, for being here to defend my sister."

Standing up, Yang accepted Winter's gesture and gave her a firm, bionic handshake. "First off, you can call me Yang," she said. "And two, you don't have to thank me."

"I very much think I do. Were it not for the efforts of you and your nephew, I do not believe that Weiss would have survived this event. That is no small matter, and I am in your debt."

She shook her head at the older woman. "No, you don't owe me anything. Neither does Weiss. I came here because your sister is the closest thing I have to one. She's one of the few people in my life that I can call family. I came here because I refused to let her be taken away."

Neither of them said a word for a moment. Not once breaking eye contact as Winter weighed and processed her words. At first glance, it that appeared that Winter - and Weiss as well, come to think of it - were always calm and collected, in control of their faculties, and not easily swayed in terms of their emotions. However, if one got to know them enough, they would find that that was all a mask built up after years of harsh mental and verbal discipline by their father, Jacques Schnee. One of the few things he'd ever done for them that actually benefited them, honestly; it helped her and Weiss maintain control of stressful situations by presenting a facade of confidence and poise to those around them.

Now, however, she could see that, behind that cold and regal expression, the Specialist was incredibly thankful and relieved at Yang's reasons for aiding Wiess.

"That, and I couldn't turn down a chance at a free stay in what is essentially the best bed and breakfast ever, complete with a gourmet chef." She didn't want to ruin what was obviously a serious show of gratitude, but it wasn't who she was to stay stone-faced and stoic.

With the moment having been shattered, Winter coughed into her hand. "Yes, well, thank you all the same...Yang." She bowed politely and turned away. After taking a few steps, she glanced back over her shoulder. "And when I said I was in your debt, I meant it. If you ever need anything from myself or the Specialists, do not hesitate to ask."

Yang cocked an eyebrow and placed a hand on her hip. "I'll hold you to that, Bigger Ice Queen. But I warn you, I'm a dangerous person to owe a favor." She smiled coyly at the latter part of her statement.

"So long as it's within my power, I will do whatever you need. On that, you have my word."

As she watched the woman march back to the bullhead to address one of her operatives, Yang grinned at all the possible requests she could make of her. Winter had said that she would do anything in her power, and such a promise brought with it many childish and embarrassing risks. However, when she made it, she and Yang both knew that this chance only came once in a lifetime. And as such, was not to be taken lightly.

Yang would have to give the matter some serious thought. But it was useful knowing that, should she ever need her, Winter was in her corner.

/-/

With a deafening roar, the engines of the Specialists' bullhead ignited. Having gotten all that they needed from the scene, Weiss's sister and the rest of them began packing up. One by one, the white-clad soldiers boarded the craft along with all their equipment. They worked fast, that was for sure. No sooner had they come and asked all their questions, searched the entire house, and provided on-site medical attention to those that needed it, then they were cleaning everything and making sure that it appeared as though they were never there.

The discipline, the order, and the tactical thought that went into their every move; it was an impressive sight to behold. If these were the kind of soldiers that Atlas put out, then it was no wonder they had the strongest military force on the planet. Then again, the Specialists were supposed to be the best of the best. It was likely incorrect to assume that the whole kingdom had the same level of training and skill.

Jasper watched them work with an intrigued eye. Due to all his time working security at various bars around Vale, he'd acquired somewhat of a hobby in people-watching. Some would call such a pass-time creepy or weird. However, those were the same kind folks who would hypocritically dress in outfits to attract as much attention as possible, only to berate others for staring at them.

Jasper could have cared less about the clothes people wore, though. He was more interested in how they acted. For example, when a person was twitchy and always fidgeting around, it likely meant that they had guilt that they were trying to hide from. Then again, some people were just like that or acted weird for the sake of it. Either way, it helped to know what kinds of things to be on the lookout for. In a way, it also allowed him to understand what people were thinking.

In observing the Specialists, he noticed one trait, in particular, that was present in all of them. Every one of them held a deep and profound respect for their commanding officer. Whenever she would approach, they would drop everything to salute or greet her. However, it went beyond something as mere as recognition of rank. They all seemed genuinely honored by her presence. And, judging by the way her gaze would slightly soften when conversing with them, Winter had a great deal of care in her for the people under her command, as well. Such thoughts helped Jasper to soothe his nerves and focus his mind on something other than the concerns for his own sanity.

A side-benefit of knowing how to spot tells in peoples' attitudes was that he knew exactly how to hide his own - to a certain extent, anyway. Good thing, too. Because at the moment, he was barely holding himself together mentally. However, to anyone that saw him, he appeared calm as could be, quietly sipping his coffee that had gone cold about ten minutes ago. Such a mask would not hold up forever, though. Someone was sure to take notice; namely, Yang. She'd seen him break down in tears after his fight with Cotton. There was no way she would buy that he got over it so quickly.

She didn't yet know the full story of the ordeal, neither did anyone else. How could he have told her in a way that didn't make him sound completely insane? _"Hey, Aunt Yang, just so you know, I tortured that assassin guy for information and then a voice in my head told me to kill him."_ Yeah, that would go over just perfectly. There was no way it could possibly backfire and land him in prison.

The details about the fight were definitely going to come to light sooner or later, given that Cotton was now in Atlas military custody. Jasper just hoped to be out of the kingdom by the time that happened. He had intentionally left out the torture and his potential mental instability in his statement. Partly out of self-preservation, but also because revealing it would prolong their time there and keep him and Yang from being able to move on. He had a feeling that she would want to head out as soon as possible once she found out that Blake Belladonna was also on the assassins' hit list.

Now that he thought about it, why did they want Blake dead, too? Weiss, he could understand the reasoning behind. She was powerful, rich, and a very influential public figure. But Blake, aside from being the third member of Team RWBY, she was just a retired huntress living her life in Menagerie. What kind of benefit could someone get from killing her, other than there being one less huntress in the world?

He supposed that there was possibly some crucial information about the woman that he was ignorant of. After all, he'd only ever met her once; at his parents' funeral, and he'd been a grief-stricken child at the time. His mother never really talked about her, neither did Yang. Blake Belladonna was an enigma. All he really knew about her was that she was a faunus and an old - albeit, estranged - friend of his family. And if she was as close to Yang as Weiss was, then it was imperative that they warn her about a threat to her life.

Once the Specialists were all packed up and the bullhead departed, Winter summoned Weiss, Yang, and Jasper to her personal transport. She wore an expression that might have been a mix of concern and relief.

"Now that things are wrapped up here," she stated. "Weiss, I think it best you come and stay with me for a while. It's become clear that these lowlifes have the skill to infiltrate even the most secure of locations."

Jasper stifled a small chuckle. _Yeah, if you could call blowing two giant holes in the ceiling 'infiltrating.'_

Winter continued, either ignore him or simply not caring to dignify his laugh. "That being said, I find it highly unlikely that they would try something of this nature again. Particularly if you were surrounded by Atlas military personnel."

"Yeah, the woman's got a point, Ice Queen," Yang chimed in.

Weiss sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "As much as I was hoping to avoid involving you, Winter, I suppose that would be the best course of action."

It was indeed the smartest thing she could have done. The assassins may have been bold, but Atlas safehouses were literal fortresses. According to public knowledge, they were built and reserved specifically for high-ranking officers and VIPs, and Weiss Schnee was as VI as it got. Someone with her influence and wealth was most likely up there on the kingdom's essential list. If anybody even thought about coming after her now, they would be just begging for one or two thousand high-powered bullets to the brainpan.

"It wasn't a suggestion, but I am pleased that you agree," Winter nodded.

_I don't want to imagine what she would've done if she said 'no.' _That being said, it would have been entertaining, no doubt.

"Well then," Winter said with a relaxed sigh. Shifting her attention, she addressed Jasper and Yang. "What will be next for you two? Will you be returning to Vale?"

Yang glanced his way. "Unless the kid's got any more plans here in Atlas, I was gonna try and figure out where these assassin guys are headed next."

"Menagerie." All three women looked at Jasper curiously, the name seemingly coming out of nowhere. "They're headed to Menagerie. Their leader's probably already there."

"How do you know that?" Yang furrowed her brow.

Winter echoed her. "And why was it not in your statement?"

He swallowed hard. His mouth felt dry. How did he answer? Did he tell the truth, or dodge the question? A little of both, perhaps?

"I heard that Cotton guy say something about Menagerie and Blake Belladonna into his radio during our fight," he lied. Thank god his eyepatch masked at least some of his face because he had the feeling that he had the expression of pure guilt. "It was really quick, and I almost didn't hear him. Didn't think it was important until now."

Weiss and Yang shared a worried look. "He said that? You're sure he mentioned Blake Belladonna?" The blonde demanded in a panicked tone.

"Yeah. Something about how she was their next target."

"Well then we've gotta get to Kuo Kuana _now_! We've got to warn her."

"Well, I suppose that settles it," Weiss pulled out her scroll and entered a few commands. After a brief minute, she put the device away. "I've just made arrangements for you two to be given passage to Menagerie."

Yang looked as though her knees were about to give way, she was about to punch someone, or possibly both. "Thank you, Weiss."

"You can thank me after you get things sorted out with Blake," she placed her hands on Yang's shoulders. "And if you want to get there before our friends do, I believe you should leave now."

Jasper felt a little confused at that remark. Why would she be telling them to leave if they were all going in the same vehicle?

"Just this once, because I know you know how to pilot it, I'll allow you to use my private bullhead to get to the airport. There will be a plane there waiting for you, bound for Vale. After that, I've reserved spots on a boat to Menagerie for you." Her words were so clear and precise as if she were giving some sort of statement to her underlings. Yet, her voice carried a bit more weight than that; a twinge of fear. Perhaps that they might be too late, or that her aid might not be enough.

"Ahem," Winter cleared her throat to get their attention. "Once you arrive in Menagerie, please contact me using the CCT. It is not open to the general populace yet, but I will send word that you are to be given clearance. I will forward any and all information that my people can glean from the prisoner and his scroll."

"Thank you, both of you. You have no idea what this means to-" Yang was cut off by Weiss pointing a sharp finger at her,

"Wrong. I _do _know what it means to you. You forget all too easily that I was also a part of Team RWBY. And though I may not have gotten on with Blake as well as you or Ruby, she and I were just as close. As such, I have no desire to see her life threatened or, even worse, taken."

Seemingly blocking out the rest of the world, the two women simply stared into each other's eyes, their expressions serious and grim. Jasper suspected that this was a part of the bond that they shared as teammates - no, more than that, sisters. That they could speak a thousand words with a mere glance. He wondered if he could have ever had that with his own team had he not been expelled from Beacon. Could they have been a sort of replacement for the family he lost?

They concluded their silent conversation with a final hug before they all said their farewells. Weiss expressed a fondness at seeing Jasper again, albeit wishing that it could have been under better pretenses. He returned the sentiment and was caught off guard when, in place of a handshake, she wrapped him in her arms.

"Your mother would have never forgiven me had I not done that," she explained upon letting him free.

He could do little more than laugh awkwardly. "Yeah. It uh... was nice to see you too."

She nodded and bid he and Yang one last goodbye before disappearing into Winter's transport. Her sister, far less willing to show any emotion, simply extended a hand.

"Once more, Mr. Arc, thank you for coming to my sister's aid. I understand that it could not have been easy to incapacitate the assassin we took into custody, but thanks to your actions, there is one less killer roaming free." Her grip was firm and unyielding, and she held his hand captive for the duration of her commendation. "Now, I must bid you both a swift and pleasant journey. I do hope we can meet again someday, although, I would prefer if it were under less acrimonious circumstances."

And with that, the Schnees left Yang and Jasper standing in the courtyard of Schnee Manor alone. The two of them turned away as the vehicle disappeared into around a bend, and headed into the massive house to collect their things for the journey ahead. Jasper steeling his nerves for the long and arduous bout of air travel he would soon be forced to endure.

* * *

If there was one thing Jasper could appreciate about boats and water in general, it was that he could travel on them without having to worry about unleashing a bioweapon. Where he would be completely incapacitated by flight, there was something liberating and refreshing about the smell of salt on the wind and warmth of the sun.

Good thing then, that he and Yang were forced to take a ferry to Menagerie. Well... good for him, anyway. Although he suspected that Yang was champing at the bit.

It had been all over the news lately that Atlas had begun working with Menagerie's leaders to construct a CCT tower for the up and coming province. As a result, Kuo Kuana's airspace was temporarily restricted, making the only way to reach it sea travel. Which just so happened to be very slow compared to flight.

The delay was causing Yang all sorts of distress and unease. Her posture was wholly different from normal. She chewed her lips nervously, kept her eyes glued in the direction of their destination, and was tapping rapidly on the ferry boat's guardrail. In a way, it was rather disheartening to see a woman who was usually so light-hearted and carefree be reduced to the walking bundle of nerves and anxiety she was now.

If only to distract her, Jasper made his way over and leaned up against the railing beside her. "Before we get there, I'd like to know a bit more about Blake," he said. "My parents never really talked about her, and neither did you, so I really have no idea who we're going to see."

"Hmm? Oh, right." Yang looked as though he'd pulled her out of deep thought. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair before turning to face him. "Well… in all honesty, I don't know where to start. There's a lot more to Blake than meets the eye."

"Okay, how 'bout we start with the obvious; what's she like?"

The older woman smiled softly, recalling pleasant memories, no doubt. "Blake is… complicated, I guess is the best way to put it. She's very driven. If she gets it into her head that she _needs_ to do something and that lives are on the line, she'll push herself to the point of nearly killing herself to get it done." Yang's smile fell a bit and took on a sad nature.

"I remember when we were students at Beacon, she convinced herself that she was the only one capable of dealing with the White Fang. It got so bad that she stopped eating, she barely slept, and she started pushing everyone in her life away. It hurt to see my partner torture herself like that. It hurt so bad that we - your mom, Weiss, and I - dragged ourselves into a war with one of the largest criminal organizations on Remnant."

That was a story that Jasper had heard. Many times, in fact, from multiple people. Every one of them said something different; warehouses getting blown sky high, epic battles with giant robots, an Atlesian superweapon in the form of an innocent little girl. The list of fantastical events went on and on. Though, he suspected that they were all just strange enough to be true.

"I'd say that beats my first semester," he said, laughing.

Yang chuckled. "Yeah, it was a fun ordeal. You know, minus the whole thing about it leading to the fall of Beacon and me going through a rather _disarming_ experience." She waved her bionic hand, causing him to groan at the terrible pun that he'd _definitely_ never heard before.

"Anyway, after that cluster, Blake showcased yet another of her fabulous character traits; running away from the people she loves after a tragedy."

Jasper raised an eyebrow.

"Since it was the White Fang that invaded Vale and killed all those people, she thought that it was somehow _her _fault that we all got hurt and… lost people that we cared about. So, rather than stay and risk causing us more pain, she thought it would be better to abandon all of us completely and run away.

"She's better now. But back then it hurt worse than any kind of wound we got from fighting. When we finally got back together, about a year later, she swore never to do it again, she meant it too. It took a good long while to get the trust between us back, but we eventually got back to where we could go to the mall, braid each other's hair, and talk about cute boys."

"I find it incredibly hard to believe that I find it incredibly hard to believe that you would let someone touch - let alone _braid _\- your hair," Jasper deadpanned. Yet another thing he'd learned from living with Yang, the woman was very particular and protective of her golden locks. As was evidenced by the comically large arsenal of hair-care products she had stocked in her shower.

"Okay, maybe we didn't do that exactly, but Blake did change. She started to trust us, confide in us more, instead of holding it all in like your typical angsty teen. Things never went back to normal completely, what with us going off on a crazy crusade against the devil herself, but they did regain some shred of how Team RWBY used to be."

Jasper harkened back to the days when he would sit on his dad's lap, looking through old photo albums and listening to stories of the shenanigans that Teams RWBY and JNPR got up too at Beacon. Tales of crazy, semblance-amplified food fights destroying the cafeteria. A dance where Jaune wore a dress. The pictures showed young, happy versions of themselves, smiling and laughing at each other. They were not the stoic and proud heroes that the schoolbook said they were. They were children, as young - if not, younger than him, living their lives and learning how the world worked as friends. It was strange to look at those old images and then see entirely different people nowadays.

"What happened to make you all drift apart?" he asked.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"Well, you and my parents never really talked about her, and I've only ever met her the one time: at their funeral. Something must've caused that."

Yang's brow furrowed and she pondered his question. It dawned on him that she might never have given it any thought. After all people, even the best of friends tended to lose contact with each other over time.

"Huh… Ya know what? I never really thought about it."

Bingo.

"I guess none of us really did. After we took down Salem and her cronies, Ruby and Jaune settled down to have you, Weiss went back to Atlas and took over the SDC from her dickwad of a dad, and I started traveling around Remnant doing huntressy things. Blake, like Weiss, went home to Menagerie to help her dad, Ghira sort things out after the White Fang dissolved.

"We all kept in touch for the most part, but after a while of doing our own thing, much as I hate to say it, life kinda got in the way. Looking back, I do actually regret not going to visit or just giving her a call, but what's done is done and there's no changing it."

She let out a long, relaxed sigh, indicative that Jasper's attempt to settle her nerves had been a success. She smiled weakly and looked him in the eye, her own filled with a mixture of sorrow and slight humor. "What kind of friend does it make me if the only thing that can bring us back together is her being in the crosshairs of a bunch of psychopaths?"

What was he supposed to say to that? Though she was estranged, Blake clearly meant a lot to Yang. Could Jasper claim to know what she was going through? He'd lost his parents, sure; but it happened all at once and was over as quickly as it began. The women that Yang considered to be her sisters were being targeted, hunted. She knew what was coming, and yet she could do nothing about it. The fear of not getting to Menagerie in time must have been killing her.

As he opened his mouth to reply, there came a fierce gust of wind from behind him. At first, Jasper may have been some form of airborne Grimm, but given that neither Yang nor any other passengers had said anything, made that seem unlikely. What he found when he turned around, however, both chilled and befuddled him.

There, hovering about half a foot above the deck, was what could only be described as a tear in reality. Unnatural red energy swirled around a hole that was as black as the void. The air around it seemed to warp and flow in abnormal ways, only adding to the eeriness of the portal.

After a tense moment, a figure stepped through the vortex. The woman, for it was a woman, was garbed in black and red robes with small pieces of armor on her shoulders and forearms. In her hand, she gripped a sword not too dissimilar to _Blutrache _in appearance. Despite being armed, her stance did not suggest she meant to attack; though, with enough experience, anyone could mask their intentions with body language. What truly caused Jasper to reel, however, was the threatening mask that concealed her face. He couldn't help but tense his muscles at the sight of the Grimm-like headpiece.

Jasper's found himself unconsciously reaching up to grip his sword's hilt, his fingers finding their familiar place on the black leather.

"If you plan on using that," her voice was sharp and commanding as she placed her unarmed hand on her hip, striking a pose that _dared_ him to draw his weapon. "I'd suggest not missing on your first strike. Because I can assure you… you won't get a chance at a second."

Before the standoff could progress any further, Yang, thankfully stepped between the two swordsmen, placing one hand on Jasper's chest and holding the other up in the direction of the newcomer. Acting as a sort of human barrier between them.

"Easy kiddo," she said calmly before turning to the scary Grimm lady. "First off, I'd appreciate it if you didn't threaten my nephew."

Jasper got the feeling that the woman was smirking underneath that mask.

"Second, what the hell are you doing here?"

The woman chuckled, which only served to further unnerve Jasper, and slid her blade into its sheath. He didn't relax, however, as he suspected this was a person who just as deadly without a weapon as she was with one. She then reached up and slowly removed her menacing headgear, revealing pale skin and dark - if somewhat graying - hair. Just as he expected, her lips were pulled into a smug grin that screamed superiority complex.

The last thing to make themselves visible were her eyes, which were an intimidating shade of crimson. Though he was certain he'd never met this woman before in his life, her eyes held a strange sense of familiarity, and he couldn't help but think that she looked just like Yang.

"Now Yang," she said in a jokingly critical tone. "Is that any way to greet your own mother?"

Oh… shit.

* * *

**A/N: And there you have it! I sincerely apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. The past few weeks have been playing hell with my schedule, due to it being the end of the semester. But I'm free now, and I can look forward to a couple of months of sun, heat, and misery without the omnipresent threat of project deadlines hanging over my head.**


	6. Big Announcement

**BIG A/N: Attention, attention! Hear ye, hear ye!**

**Blood Trails is getting the same treatment as Soldiers of Fortune. That is to say, I'm going to be completely rewriting it on account of a major case of the main character lacking agency and an even majorer case of Marty-Sueness.**

**This story might return, it might not. But definitely not until I can get a chance to really sit down and think it through and fix all the broke shit.**


End file.
